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FROM   ST.  FRANCIS  TO  DANTE. 


BAPTISTERY     OF      PARMA 

WITH     SALIMBeNE'S     HOUSE 

[See  page  xvi.J 


FROM 
ST.  FRANCIS  TO  DANTE 


TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   CHRONICLE   OF   THE 
FRANCISCAN   SALIMBENE  ; 

(1221-1288) 

WITH    NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS    FROM    OTHER 
MEDIEVAL   SOURCES. 


BY 

G.  G.  COULTON,  M.A. 


g)econti   (Etiition. 

REVISED  AND  ENLARGED 


Whan  alle  tresores  aren  tried,  trewtJie  is  the  best." 

(piers  plowman). 


Jlontion  : 
DAVID  NUTT,  57,  LONG  ACRE. 

1907. 


BARNICOTT  AND  PEARCE 
PRINTERS 


TO 

HV    FATHER,    MY    MOTHER, 

A>D  MY  WIFE. 


PREFACE  TO  SECOND  EDITION. 

The  present  edition  contains  a  considerable  amount  of  fresh 
matter  from  Salimbene's  chronicle,  omitted  from  the  first  mainlj 
for  the  insufficient  reason  that  I  had  already  published  it  else- 
where. The  notes  and  appendices  have  been  even  more  extended, 
especially  on  points  where  diflferent  critics  seemed  to  think  the 
evidence  inadequate. 

Apart  from  the  more  obvious  advantages  of  a  second  edition, 
an  author  must  always  welcome  the  further  opportunity  of  ex- 
plaining himself ;  especially  when  he  has  struck  for  a  definite 
cause  and  provoked  hard  knocks  in  return.  To  most  of  my  re- 
viewers I  owe  hearty  thanks,  and  certainly  not  least  to  a  Guardian 
critic,  whose  evident  disagreement  with  me  on  important  points 
did  not  prevent  him  from  giving  me  credit  for  an  honest  attempt 
to  describe  the  facts  as  they  appeared  to  one  pair  of  eyes.  In 
that  recognition  an  author  finds  his  real  reward  :  after  all,  even 
Goethe  was  content  to  say,  "  I  can  promise  to  be  sincere,  but  not 
to  be  impartial."*  Genuine  impartiality  is  one  of  the  rarest  of 
virtues,  though  there  have  always  been  plenty  of  authors  who 
shirk  thorny  questions,  or  who  concede  points  to  the  weaker  side 
with  the  cheap  generosity  which  impels  a  jury  to  find  for  a  needy 
plaintiff  against  a  rich  man.  Never,  perhaps,  was  this  kind  of 
impartiality  so  common  as  at  present,  when  (to  quote  a  recent 
witty  writer)  "  the  fashion  is  a  Roman  Catholic  frame  of  mind 
with  an  agnostic  conscience  :  you  get  the  medieval  picturesqueness 
of  the  one  with  the  modern  conveniences  of  the  other,"  Even 
the  Editors  of  the  Cambridge  Modern  History,  fearing  more  the 

*  Goethe's  Maxims  and  Reflections,  translated  by  T.  Bailey  Saunders,  p.  91. 


viii  Preface  to  Second  Edition. 

suspicion  of  partiality  than  the  certainty  of  an  error,  have 
allowed  two  contributors  to  contradict  each  other  almost  categor- 
ically, within  a  few  pages,  on  one  of  the  most  important  points 
in  the  first  volume  *  Direct  references  to  authorities  are  for- 
bidden by  the  plan  of  the  History  :  there  is,  of  course,  nothing 
to  warn  the  ordinary  reader  how  far  one  of  the  two  contributors 
surpasses  the  other  in  originality  and  depth  of  research  j  and  it 
is  practically  left  to  him  to  accept  whichever  of  the  two  state- 
ments fits  in  best  with  his  preconceived  opinions.  We  cannot 
imagine  a  great  co-operative  work  on  Natural  Science  written 
nowadays  on  these  principles ;  and  this  alone  would  go  far  to 
account  for  the  present  unjust  neglect  of  history  by  readers  of 
an  exact  turn  of  mind.  Yet  there  is  a  further  reason  also  ;  for 
to  shirk  disputed  questions  is  to  neglect  matters  of  the  deepest 
interest :  and  the  elaborate  dulness  of  many  official  histories  is 
a  libel  on  the  many-coloured  web  of  human  life. 

Eleven  years  ago,  finding  it  impossible  to  get  from  the  accredited 
text-books  satisfactory  information  on  points  which  I  had  long 
studied  in  a  desultory  way,  I  began  systematic  work  for  myself 
within  a  narrow  area,  and  soon  found  how  little  the  original 
documents  are  really  studied,  and  how  much  one  historian  is 
content  to  take  at  second-hand  from  another.  In  cases  like  this, 
anything  that  can  be  done  to  sweep  away  ancient  cobwebs  is  a 
real  gain.  I  knew  that  I  should  make  mistakes,  as  even  oflicialism 
is  far  from  infallible,  and  we  have  recently  seen  a  reviewer  fill 
three  and  a  half  quarto  columns  with  the  slips  made  by  one  of 
our  most  dignified  professors  in  a  single  octavo  volume.  I  knew 
also  that,  however  correct  my  facts,  the  very  effort  to  expose 
widely-accredited  fallacies  would  give  a  certain  want  of  perspec- 
tive to  my  work.  But,  without  for  a  moment  supposing  that  this 
book  would  by  itself  give  anything  like  a  complete  picture  of 
medieval  life,  I  yet  believed  that  our  forefathers'   "common 

*  Cambridge  Modem  History,  toI.  i,  p.  632 :  cf.  660,  672,  674-6. 


Preface  to  Second  Edition.  ix 

thoughts  about  common  things  "  would  never  really  become  in- 
telHgible  without  informal  and  frankly  personal  studies  of  this 
kind ;  and  the  public  reception  has  now  strengthened  this  beUef. 
I  have,  however,  departed  even  more  from  official  usage  in 
another  matter — the  direct  criticism  of  many  misstatements 
which  have  gained  currency  by  reaction  from  the  equally  one- 
sided Protestantism  of  a  century  ago,  more  especially  through 
the  writings  of  Abbot  Gasquet.  While  it  is  to  the  direct  in- 
terest of  all  Roman  Catholic  clergy,  and  of  many  High  Church- 
men, to  misread  certain  facts  of  history,  there  are  comparatively 
few  Avho  have  the  same  official  excuse  for  equal  vigilance  and 
persistence  on  the  other  side.  The  extreme  dread  of  partiality, 
into  which  modern  literature  has  swung  from  the  still  worse 
extreme  of  blind  partisanship,  restrains  first-rate  historians  from 
speaking  with  sufficient  plainness,  even  in  the  few  cases  where 
they  have  found  time  to  convince  themselves,  by  carefully  verify- 
ing his  references,  of  an  author's  inaccuracy.  So  long,  therefore, 
as  the  most  authoritative  writers  salve  their  consciences  by  merely 
describing  certain  books  as  able  pleas  from  the  Roman  Catholic 
point  of  view,  the  public  will  never  grasp  what  this  indulgent 
phrase  really  means.  Moreover,  the  euphemism  itself  would  seem 
to  imply  a  very  low  view  both  of  history  and  of  religion.  No 
man  of  science  would  content  himself  with  such  equivocal  language 
in  the  face  of  systematic  distortions  and  suppressions  of  evidence, 
however  personally  respectable  the  literary  offender  might  be. 
For  it  is  absolutely  necessary  here  to  separate  the  personal  and 
the  literary  questions  as  much  as  possible.  The  fact  that  an 
author  is  sincerely  attached  to  a  particular  church,  in  which  he 
also  holds  a  high  official  position,  is  thoroughly  honourable  to  him 
personally  ;  but  it  aggravates  the  ill  effect  of  his  interested  mis- 
statements. Not  charity,  but  cynicism  underlies  the  plea  which 
is  constantly  implied,  if  not  expressed,  that  certain  religious 
beliefs  should  be  allowed  wide  licence  in  the  treatment  of  historical 


X  Preface  to  Second  Edition. 

facts — that  a  writer's  public  falsehoods  may  be  considered  an 
almost  inseparable  accident  of  his  private  creed,  a  superfetation 
of  his  excessive  piety.  No  bitterer  condemnation  could  be 
imagined  than  this  contemptuous  leniency  which  most  men  extend 
to  a  priest's  misstatement  in  the  name  of  Christian  Truth. 
Moreover,  we  all  know  Roman  Catholics  whose  theory  and 
practice  alike  contradict  this  plea.  It  was  Lord  Acton  who  said, 
after  years  of  struggle  against  official  distortions  of  history, 
"  the  weight  of  opinion  is  against  me  when  I  exhort  you  never  to 
debase  the  moral  currency  or  to  lower  the  standard  of  rectitude, 
but  to  try  others  by  the  final  maxim  that  governs  your  own  lives, 
and  to  suffer  no  man  and  no  cause  to  escape  the  undying  penalty 
which  history  has  the  power  to  inflict  on  wrong."  Nor  did 
Lord  Acton  stand  alone  here  :  for  cultivated  laymen  show  an 
increasing  repugnance  to  the  crooked  historical  methods  which 
are  still  only  too  popular  in  ecclesiastical  circles ;  and  certain 
apologists  pay  already  to  truth  at  least  the  unwilling  homage  of 
anonymity.  Legends,  which  once  stalked  boldly  abroad,  are 
fain  to  lurk  now  in  unsigned  articles  for  the  Church  Times^  or 
to  creep  into  corners  of  the  AthencBum  while  the  editor  nods,  or 
to  herd  with  other  ancient  prejudices  in  the  Saturday  Review. 
Yet,  to  clear  the  ground  thoroughly,  it  is  necessary  sometimes 
to  pursue  them  even  into  this  last  ditch,  and  to  show  the  public 
how,  in  spite  of  the  high  general  tone  of  our  periodical  literature, 
the  editorial  we  must  inevitably  cover  some  creatures  which  do 
well  become  so  old  a  coat.  When  the  Saturday  proclaims,  with 
its  traditional  wealth  of  epithet,  that  our  writings  lack  the  odour 
of  sanctity,  we  may  profitably  point  out  that  there  have  always 
been  two  separate  voices  on  that  journal.  As  in  the  days  of  the 
Stephens  and  J.  R.  Green,  it  still  doubtless  owes  its  real  flavour 
to  witty  latitudinarians,  and  only  keeps  a  few  vrais  croyants  on 
the  premises  to  do  the  necessary  backbiting. 

I  realise  as  clearly,  perhaps,  as  some  of  my  critics,  how  inade- 


Preface  to  Second  Edition.  xi 

quate  and  unsatisfactory  mere  negative  work  must  necessarily  be. 
But,  having  once  liberated  my  soul  by  plainly  exposing  the  dis- 
like felt  by  a  certain  school  of  historians  and  critics  for  the  open 
discussion  of  actual  medieval  documents,  I  hope  presently  to 
pass  on  to  a  more  constructive  picture  of  social  life  in  the  past. 
Yet  it  may  still  be  doubted  whether  any  history  of  the  Middle 
Ages  can  at  present  avoid  controversy  without  falling  into  super- 
ficiality :  and  the  blame  of  these  conditions  lies  partly  with  the 
want  of  proper  organization  at  our  universities,  though  there  are 
recent  signs  of  a  real  awakening.  All  history  is  a  chain  which 
may  break  at  any  point  unless  each  link  has  been  forged  with 
separate  care.  We  cannot  understand  our  place  in  the  modern 
world  without  comprehending  the  French  Revolution  and  the 
Reformation  :  nor  can  we  understand  these  without  an  accurate 
conception  of  the  ancien  regime  which  each  replaced.  For 
instance  (to  state  the  problem  which  the  Cambridge  History 
sometimes  obscures),  were  the  clergy,  from  whom  the  laity 
revolted  four  hundred  years  ago,  such  as  would  be  tolerated  by 
any  civilized  country  of  to-day  ?  The  question  is  far  from  in- 
soluble ;  it  may  almost  be  said  that  judgment  has  already  gone  by 
default,  since  Dr.  Lea's  Sacerdotal  Celibacy  has  held  the  field 
for  forty  years.  Certainly,  if  it  were  made  worth  their  while, 
one  or  two  able  men  could  in  a  few  years  work  through  the 
evidence,  and  bring  the  public  to  the  same  rough  agreement  as 
has  long  been  reached  on  many  subjects  once  as  contentious  as 
this.  Dozens  of  important  questions  similarly  await  a  solution 
before  any  real  history  of  medieval  life  can  be  written ;  and,  in 
default  of  such  organized  study  as  we  have  long  seen  in  physical 
science,  most  of  this  necessary  foundation-work  will  continue  to 
be  done  slowly  and  fitfully  by  volunteers,  amateurs,  and  con- 
troversialists, while  the  imiversities  are  raising  enormous  monu- 
ments on  the  quicksands  of  our  present  uncertainties.  The 
forthcoming  Cambridge  Medieval  History  cannot  possibly  come 


xii  Preface  to  Second  Edition. 

near  to  finalitj,  even  in  the  limited  sense  in  which  that  word  can 
ever  be  rightlj  used.  Large  numbers  of  vital  documents  are 
still  unprinted :  many  even  of  the  printed  volumes  are  not  yet 
digested,  and  generations  of  acute  controversy  are  likely  to  elapse 
before  a  real  historian  of  the  Middle  Ages  could  find  such 
materials  as  Gibbon  found  ready  to  his  hand.  It  is  pathetic  to 
see  how  much  of  professional  historiography  is  still  a  mere  pour- 
ing of  old  wine  into  new  bottles,  and  to  think  that  Carlyle  wrote 
half  a  century  ago  "  After  interpreting  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
for  a  thousand  years,  let  us  now  try  oiu*  own  a  little.  .  .  .  How  clear 
this  has  been  to  myself  a  long  while  I  Not  one  soul,  I  believe, 
has  yet  taken  it  into  him.  Universities  founded  by  "monk  ages" 
are  not  fit  at  all  for  this  age.  .  .  .  What  all  want  to  know  is 
the  condition  of  our  fellow  men  ;  and,  strange  to  say,  it  is  the 
thing  of  all  least  understood,  or  to  be  understood  as  matters  go."* 
The  condemnation  of  the  universities  is,  of  course,  couched  in 
terms  of  Carlylean  exaggeration  :  but  it  can  scarcely  be  denied 
that  the  official  schools  are  still  tempted — through  official 
timidity,  or  natural  laziness,  or  mere  muddle — to  neglect  those 
questions  of  past  history  which  are  indeed  most  contentious,  but 
which  go  nearest  to  the  roots  of  human  life. 


Froude'8  "Early  Life  of  Thomas  Carlyle"  (1891),  vol.  ii,  pp.  16,  85. 


PREFACE  TO  FIRST  EDITION. 

There  are  many  nowadays,  and  of  the  best  among  us,  who 
still  halt  between  the  medieval  and  the  modem  ideals.  In 
their  just  dislike  of  much  that  is  blameworthy  in  the  present, 
they  are  often  tempted  to  imagine  Religion  as  a  lamp  glimmering 
in  the  far  depths  of  the  past,  dimmer  and  dimmer  to  human 
eyes  as  the  world  moves  onward  down  the  ages.  At  other 
times,  with  the  healthy  instinct  of  life,  they  cling  to  the  more 
hopeful  conception  of  Faith  as  a  sacred  flame  kindled  from 
torch  to  torch  in  the  hands  of  advancing  humanity — varying 
and  dividing  as  it  passes  on,  yet  always  essentially  the  same — 
broadening  over  the  earth  to  satisfy  man's  wider  needs,  instead 
of  fading  away  in  proportion  as  God  multiplies  the  souls  that 
need  it. 

These  two  ideals  are  mutually  exclusive,  and  the  choice  is 
plain  if  historians  would  write  plainly.  Medieval  history  has 
been  too  exclusively  given  over  to  the  poet,  the  romancer,  and 
the  ecclesiastic,  who  by  their  very  profession  are  more  or  less 
conscious  apologists.  Yet  we  cannot  understand  the  present 
until  we  face  the  past  without  fear  or  prejudice.  The  thirteenth 
century — the  golden  age  of  the  old  ideal — is  on  the  one  hand 
near  enough  for  close  and  accurate  observation,  while  it  is 
sufficiently  distant  to  afford  the  wide  angle  needed  for  our 
survey. 

This  present  study  lays  no  claim  to  impartiality  in  one 
sense,  for  I  cannot  affect  to  doubt  which  is  the  higher  of  the 
two  ideals.  At  the  same  time,  when  I  first  fell  in  love  with  the 
Middle  Ages,  thirty  years  ago,  it  was  as  most  people  begin  to 
love  them,  through  Chaucer  and  the  splendid  relics  of  Gothic 
art.  An  inclination,  at  first  merely  ajsthetic,  has  widened  and 
deepened  with  the  growing  conviction  that   the  key  to  most 


xiv  Preface  to  First  Edition. 

modern  problems  is  to  be  found  in  the  so-called  Ages  of  Faith. 
Even  here,  where  the  very  conception  of  my  work  compels  me 
to  run  counter  to  many  cherished  convictions,  I  have  honestly 
tried  to  avoid  doubtful  statements  or  exaggerations,  and  am 
ready  to  guarantee  this  by  the  only  pledge  in  my  power — by  an 
offer  which  I  have  already  made  (in  substance)  several  times  in 
vain.  Many  writers  disparage  modem  civilization  in  comparison 
with  what  seems  to  me  a  purely  imaginary  past.  If  any  one 
of  these  will  now  take  me  at  my  word,  I  will  willingly  accept 
his  severest  criticisms  to  the  extent  of  thirty-two  octavo  pages, 
restrict  my  reply  within  the  same  limit,  and  publish  the  whole 
at  my  own  expense  without  further  comment.  If  my  content- 
ions are  false,  I  am  thus  undertaking  to  offer  every  facility  for 
my  own  exposure. 

I  must  here  record  my  special  thanks  to  Prof.  L.  Cledat 
of  Lyons,  and  Geheimrath-Prof.  O.  Holder-Egger  of  Berlin. 
The  former,  who  had  once  projected  a  complete  edition  of 
Salimbene,  generously  put  his  very  extensive  collations  at  my 
service  :  and  the  latter,  who  has  at  last  published  the  Chronicle 
with  a  perfection  of  scholarly  apparatus  which  leaves  nothing 
to  be  desired,  has  not  only  met  my  enquiries  with  the  most 
ungrudging  courtesy,  but  has  kindly  supplied  me  with  advance 
sheets  of  his  great  work. 

G.  G.  COULTON. 
Eastbourne,  July,  1906, 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP 

. 

PAGE 

I. 

The  Autobiography  op  Brother  Salimbene 

1 

II. 

Parentage  and  Boyhood 

12 

III. 

The  Great  Alleluia 

21 

IV. 

Conversion     ..... 

38 

V. 

A  Wicked  World     .... 

49 

VI. 

Cloister  Life             .... 

.       62 

VII. 

Frate  Elia                 .... 

76 

VIII. 

The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar 

89 

IX. 

Convent  Friendships 

.       98 

X. 

The  Siege  of  Parma 

115 

XI. 

The  Guelfs  Victorious 

124 

XII. 

Wanderjahre             .... 

.     134 

XIII. 

Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development    . 

.     150 

XIV. 

Further  Wanderings 

167 

XV. 

A  Bishop's  Conscience 

176 

XVI. 

Settling  Down           .... 

185 

XVII. 

Taking  in  Sail           .... 

201 

XVIII. 

Fresh  Storms             .... 

213 

XIX. 

Last  Days      ..... 

227 

XX. 

The  Princes  of  the  World 

239 

XXI. 

Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh 

257 

XXII. 

The  Princes  of  the  Church 

273 

XXIII. 

Clergy  and  People    .... 

292 

XXIV. 

Faith             ..... 

305 

XXV. 

Believing  and  Trembling 

316 

XXVI. 

The  Salt  and  its  Savour 

334 

XXVII. 

Conclusion     ..... 

349 

Appendices     ...... 

356 

Index 

435 

DESCRIPTION  OF  FRONTISPIECE. 


The  frontispiece  (for  kind  permission  to  use  which  1  have  to  thank 
Messrs.  Cassell  and  Co.),  shows  the  Baptistery  which  was  the  special 
glory  of  Parma,  Salimbene  tells  us  (585)  "  in  the  year  1196  it  was 
begun ;  and  my  father  (as  I  have  heard  from  his  lips)  laid  stones  in 
its  foundation  for  a  memorial  and  a  sign  of  good  remembrance  to 
posterity :  for  there  was  naught  (nulla  interposiiio)  between  the 
Baptistery  and  my  house."  This  definitely  marks  the  site  of 
Salimbene's  house  as  the  comer  building  on  the  spectator's  right 
hand,  since  the  left-hand  corner  house  does  not  stand  near  enough  to 
satisfy  what  he  tells  us  in  another  place,  of  his  mother's  fear  lest 
the  earthquake  should  bring  the  Baptistery  down  upon  their  heads. 

The  picture  is  taken  from  a  spot  close  by  the  west  front  of  the 
Cathedral ;  opposite  the  Baptisterj'  (and  therefore  behind  the  spec- 
tator to  the  right)  stands  the  Bishop's  palace.  These  three  buildings, 
which  stand  thus  round  the  head  of  the  Piazza  Yecchia,  were  all  in 
course  of  construction  during  the  chronicler's  lifetime. 

Very  many  of  the  houses  in  Parma  keep  their  13th  century  walls 
under  the  later  stucco  :  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  shell  of  our 
chronicler's  house  is  still  there.  The  Baptistery  was  first  used  in 
1216,  though  not  actually  finished  until  1270 :  the  delay  was 
occasioned  by  Ezzelino's  domination  of  Verona,  which  stopped  the 
supplies  of  that  delicate  pink-and-white  Verona  marble  of  which  the 
building  was  made.    (Salimbene  p.  519  :  AflF6.  i.v,  3). 


Chapter  I. 
The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene. 

THIS — the  most  remarkable  autobiography  of  the  Middle 
Ages — is  only  now  beginning  to  take  its  proper  place  in 
history.  Inaccessible  until  lately  even  to  most  medieval  scholars, 
it  is  now  at  last  being  published  in  its  entirety  under  the 
admirable  editorship  of  Prof.  Holder-Egger,  in  the  Monumenta 
Germania  (Vol.  xxxii,  Scriptores).  An  edition  was  indeed 
published  in  1857  at  Parma  :  but  this  was  printed  from  an 
imperfect  transcript,  mutilated  in  deference  to  ecclesiastical 
susceptibilities.  The  original  MS.,  after  many  vicissitudes,  had 
been  bought  into  the  Vatican  library  in  order  to  render  a 
complete  publication  impossible  ;  and  it  was  only  thrown  open  to 
students,  with  the  rest  of  the  Vatican  treasures,  by  the  liberality 
of  the  late  Pope  Leo  XIII.  Even  now,  the  complete  Salimbene 
will  never  be  read  ;  for  many  sheets  have  been  cut  out  of  the 
MS.,  and  parts  of  others  erased,  by  certain  scandalized  readers 
of  long  ago  '}  but,  in  the  shape  in  which  we  have  him  at  last, 
he  is  the  most  precious  existing  authority  for  the  ordinary  life  of 
Cathohc  folk  at  the  period  which  by  common  consent  marks  the 
high-water  line  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

There  have  been  few  more  brilliant  victories  in  history  than 
those  of  St.  Francis,  and  few  more  pathetic  failures.  The  very 
qualities  which  put  him  in  a  class  by  himself,  and  command 
admiration  even  from  his  least  sympathetic  critics,  foredoomed 
his  ideal  to  a  fall  as  startling  as  its  rise.  The  generation  which 
followed  him  was  at  least  as  far  from  fulfilling  his  hopes  as  the 
First  Empire  was  from  realizing  the  ideal  of  1789.  In  each  case, 
an  impulse  was  given  which  shook  Europe  to  its  foundations, 
and  still  vibrates  down  the  ages.  But  in  each  case  there  was 
something  of  necessary  blindness  in  the  passionate  concentration 
of  the  original  idea  ;  so  that  the  movement  soon  took  quite  a 
different  direction,  and  liberated  quite  different  forces,  from 
those  which  had  been  comtemplated  by  the  men  who  threw  their 
whole  soul  into  the  first  blow.     In  Dante's  lifetime,  not  a  century 


2  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

after  St.  Francis's  death,  friars  were  burned  alive  by  their 
brother  friars  for  no  worse  fault  than  obstinate  devotion  to  the 
strict  Rule  of  St.  Francis.  The  Saint  was  the  especial  Apostle 
of  Poverty  :  yet  that  century  of  steadily-growing  wealth  and 
luxury  which  stirred  Cacciaguida's  gall  so  deeply  (Par.  xv.  97 
foil.)  coincided  precisely  with  the  century  of  first  and  purest 
Franciscan  activity  :  especially  if  we  read  the  poet  in  the  light 
of  contemporary  chroniclers,  who  date  the  change  from  "  the 
days  of  Frederick  II."  St.  Francis  was  born  in  that  age  of 
Bellincion  Berti  to  which  Dante  looked  back  as  so  simple,  so 
sober,  and  so  chaste ;  and  if  he  had  come  back  to  earth  on  the 
centenary  of  his  death,  he  would  have  found  himself  "in  the 
days  of  Sardanapalus."  Making  all  allowance  for  Dante's 
bitterness,  and  for  his  characteristically  medieval  praise  of  past 
times  at  the  expense  of  the  present,  still  we  cannot  doubt  that 
the  change  was  i-eal  and  far-reaching.  It  was  in  Dante's  life- 
time, for  instance,  that  the  custom  of  buying  Oriental  slaves 
grew  up,  with  other  similar  luxuries  which  the  friars  were  quite 
powerless  to  banish,  even  when  they  did  not  themselves  set  the 
example.^ 

Again,  Innocent  III  had  seen  in  a  vision  St.  Francis  propping 
the  falling  Church  :  yet  this  hope,  too,  was  partly  belied  by  the 
facts  of  later  history.  The  friars,  it  is  true,  seemed  for  a  time 
to  have  entirely  checked  the  growing  spirit  of  antisacerdotalism  ; 
but  they  brought  among  the  clergy  themselves  a  ferment  of  free 
thought  which  only  found  its  proper  outlet  at  the  Reformation  ; 
just  as  the  Oxford  movement,  though  initiated  as  a  protest  not 
against  the  Low  Church  but  against  Liberalism,  has  worked  in 
the  long  run  for  Liberalism  within  our  own  communion.  The 
Church,  in  the  narrower  sense  in  which  Innocent  and  Francis 
understood  the  word,  was  partly  propped,  but  also  seriously 
shaken,  by  the  thrust  of  the  Franciscan  buttress. 

Yet  the  true  kernel  of  St.  Francis's  teaching  has  lived  and 
grown  :  he  has  given  an  undying  impulse  to  the  world's  spiritual 
life.  He  showed  that  a  man  need  not  leave  the  world  to  live  the 
highest  life — that  indeed  he  can  scarcely  live  the  highest  life 
except  in  the  world — and,  in  spite  of  occasional  hesitation  on 
the  Saint's  own  part,  in  spite  of  the  blindness  of  many  of  his 
most  devoted  successors,  this  is  a  lesson  which  men  have 
never  since  forgotten.  In  this  at  least,  the  twentieth  century 
is  more  Franciscan  than  the  thirteenth  ;  that  you  may  find  a 
true  saint  in  cricketing  flannels  or  at  a  theatre,  or  selling  you  a 
pennyworth  of  biscuits  without  any  airs  whatever  behind  the 
counter  of  a  village  shop.    Society  in  general  has  grown  sufficiently 


The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene.  3 

decent  to  render  the  retirement  into  monastic  Hfe  almost  or  quite 
unnecessary  :  and  therefore,  though  there  has  been  no  age  in 
which  monks  might  so  easily  live  in  undisturbed  retirement  as  in 
our  own  (if  indeed  they  would  seek  such  retirement,  and  avoid 
worldly  politics),  yet  monastic  vocations  among  grown-up  men 
and  women  are  extremely  rare  even  in  Roman  Catholic  countries. 
The  good  man  seldom  dreams  of  cutting  himself  off  from  society  : 
and  both  he  and  society  find  themselves  the  better  for  it. 

The  persistence  with  which  most  English  writers  on  St.  Francis 
ring  the  changes  on  M.  Sabatier's  admirable  biography  without 
refreshing  themselves  at  original  sources  is  apt  to  create  a  very 
artificial  atmosphere.  Indeed,  M.  Sabatier  himself  seems  at 
times  to  forget  the  essential  impracticability  of  the  strict 
Franciscan  ideal.  When  he  writes  that  there  was  something 
"  which  all  but  made  of  the  Franciscans  the  leaven  of  a  quite 
new  civilization "  in  "  the  thought  .  .  that  the  return  of  the 
Spirit  of  Poverty  to  dwell  on  the  earth  should  be  the  signal  for 
a  complete  restoration  of  the  human  race  "  (  Sacrum  Commercium, 
p.  8)  he  himself  would  probably  frankly  confess,  on  second 
thoughts,  that  his  enthusiasm  has  carried  him  too  far.  The  idea 
of  a  formal  and  absolute  renunciation  of  property  was  from  the 
first  as  essentially  incapable  of  regenerating  the  w^orld  as  the 
idea  of  formal  celibacy  was  of  settling  "the  social  problem." 
It  was  simply  a  religious  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade — magnifi- 
cent in  its  moral  effect,  eternally  inspiring  within  its  own  limits, 
but  vitiated  by  a  terrible  miscalculation  of  the  opposing  forces. 
It  had  no  more  effect  on  the  growing  luxury  of  the  13th  century 
than  had  the  Six  Hundred  on  the  solid  Russian  army.  Military 
suicide  is  in  the  long  run  as  fatal  to  victory  in  the  Holy  War  as 
in  any  other  :  and  many  of  the  worst  treasons  to  the  Franciscan 
spirit  may  be  traced  directly  to  the  Saint's  own  exaggerations. 
The  Franciscan  legend  in  England  seems  in  danger  of  becoming 
almost  as  artificial  as  the  Napoleonic  legend  in  France  :  the 
strain  of  praise  is  pitched  higher  and  higher  by  each  successive 
writer,  till  it  comes  very  near  to  the  falsetto  of  cant.  The  time 
seems  almost  at  hand  when  those  who  cared  for  the  Saint  before 
M.  Sabatier's  Life  was  published  will  feel  like  those  who  cared 
for  art  before  the  coming  of  JEstheticism.  The  cycle  of  early 
Franciscan  legends  is  studied  almost  as  the  Bible  was  two  hundred 
years  ago — as  a  Scripture  rather  desecrated  than  honoured  by 
illustration  from  outside  sources.  Miss  Macdonell's  Sons  of 
Francis^  in  spite  of  the  lacuna}  in  her  scholarship,  is,  however,  a 
real  attempt  to  illustrate  the  Saint's  life  by  those  of  some  of  his 
nearest  companions  and  most  distinguished  followers.     But  even 


4  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

she  moves  almost  altogether  in  the  plane  of  exceptional  mani- 
festations, and  lacks  the  deeper  knowledge  of  contemporary 
manners  which  is  necessary  for  a  comprehension  of  the  average 
friar.  Yet  it  is  in  fact  almost  as  important  to  understand  the 
average  friar  as  to  understand  St.  Francis  himself,  if  we  would 
reahze  the  13th  century.  And  though  Salimbene  himself  cannot 
be  called  an  average  friar — he  was  in  many  ways  far  above  the 
ordinary — yet  there  is  no  other  single  book  in  which  the  ordinary 
friar,  and  the  world  on  which  he  looked  out,  may  so  well  be 
studied. 

The  author's  time  and  circumstances  were  among  the  most 
favourable  that  could  possibly  be  conceived  for  an  autobiographer. 
He  was  a  citizen  of  one  of  the  busiest  cities  of  Italy  during  in- 
comparably the  most  stirring  period  of  its  history.  A  Franciscan 
of  the  second  generation,  overlapping  St.  Francis  by  five  years 
and  Dante  by  twenty-five,  he  knew  personally  many  of  the  fore- 
most figures  in  Franciscan  and  Dantesque  history  :  and  the  course 
of  his  long  and  wandering  life  brought  him  into  contact  with 
many  real  saints,  and  still  more  picturesque  sinners,  whom  he 
describes  with  the  most  impartial  interest.  His  naturally  obser- 
vant and  sympathetic  mind  had  been  ripened,  when  he  wrote,  by 
forty  years'  work  in  the  busiest,  most  popular,  most  enterprising 
religious  order  that  ever  existed  : 

"  Lo,  goode  men,  a  flye,  and  eek  a  frere 
Wol  falle  in  every  dyshe  and  mateere." 

And,  rarest  and  most  precious  circumstance  of  all,  he  is  among 
the  frankest  of  autobiographers,  not  so  much  composing  as 
thinking  aloud.  Like  Pepys,  whom  he  resembles  so  closely  in 
other  ways,  he  wrote  with  small  thought  for  posterity  :  the  Chron- 
icle was  apparently  designed  at  first  for  the  edification  of  his  dear 
niece,  a  nun  of  his  own  order.  As  he  tells  us  (p.  187 ), "  Moreover, 
in  writing  divers  chronicles  I  have  used  a  simple  and  intelligible 
style,  that  my  niece  for  whom  I  wrote  might  understand  as  she 
read  ;  nor  have  I  been  anxious  and  troubled  about  ornaments  of 
words,  but  only  about  the  truth  of  my  story.  For  my  niece 
Agnes  is  my  brother's  daughter,  who,  having  come  to  her  fifteenth 
year,  entered  the  order  of  St.  Clare,  and  continues  in  the  service 
of  Jesus  Christ  even  to  this  present  day,  a.d.  1284,  wherein  I 
write  these  words.  Now  this  Sister  Agnes,  my  niece,  had  an 
excellent  understanding  in  Scripture,  and  a  good  understanding 
and  memory,  together  with  a  delightful  tongue  and  ready  of 
speech,  so  that  it  might  be  said  of  her,  not  without  reason,  '  Grace 


The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene.  5 

is  poured  abroad  in  thy  lips,  therefore  hath  God  blessed  thee  for 
ever.' "'  We  have  here,  therefore  in  Montaigne's  words,  "  iin  livre 
de  bonne  foyy  If  some  of  the  stories  which  the  grey-headed  friar 
chronicles  for  the  edification  of  his  aristocratic  and  cultured 
niece  seem  to  us  a  trifle  full-flavoured,  we  must  remember  that 
this  was  thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  Ages  of  Faith.  After 
all,  Madame  Eglantine  and  her  two  fellow-nuns  heard  worse  still 
on  their  pious  journey  to  Canterbury  :  and  the  most  classical 
educational  writer  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  Knight  of  La  Tour 
Landry,  records  even  stranger  tales  than  Chaucer's  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  his  two  motherless  daughters.  If,  again,  the  friar's  very 
plain-spoken  criticisms  of  matters  ecclesiastical  maj  startle 
those  who  have  indeed  read  their  Dante,  but  who  have  been 
taught,  perhaps,  that  Dante  writes  with  peculiar  bitterness  as 
a  disappointed  man,  this  is  only  because  many  of  the  most 
important  facts  of  thirteenth  century  history  have  never  in 
modern  times  been  fairly  laid  before  the  public.  Nobody  could 
gather  from  even  the  most  candid  of  modern  ecclesiastical 
historians  that  the  crowning  period  of  the  Middle  Ages  seemed, 
to  those  who  lived  in  it,  almost  hopelessly  out  of  joint.  The 
most  pious,  the  most  orthodox,  the  bravest  men  of  the  thirteenth 
century  write  as  unwilling  dwellers  in  the  tents  of  Kedar.  To 
them,  their  own  world,  whether  before  or  after  the  coming  of  the 
Friars,  was  the  mere  dregs  of  the  good  old  world  of  the  past : 
and  they  expected  God's  final  vengeance  in  the  near  future. 
Herein  lies  one  of  the  principal,  though  hitherto  imperfectly 
recognized,  causes  of  the  strange  unprogressiveness  of  the  Middle 
Ages :  the  strongest  minds  were  hopelessly  oppressed  by  the 
sight  of  the  crying  evils  around  them,  and  by  the  want  of 
histories  to  teach  them  how,  barbarous  as  the  present  was  in  so 
many  ways,  it  yet  marked  a  real  improvement  on  the  past. 

The  modern  historian,  therefore,  cannot  be  too  thankful  for 
these  memoirs,  written  without  pose  or  effort,  to  interest  his 
favourite  niece,  by  a  man  who  had  looked  sympathetically  on 
many  sides  of  the  world  in  which  St.  Francis  and  Dante  lived 
and  worked.  The  learned  Jesuit  Michael,  sadly  as  he  is  shocked 
by  our  author  in  many  ways,  cannot  deny  that  this  book  presents 
a  mirror  of  the  times,  and  quotes  with  approval  the  verdict  of 
Dove :  "  His  character  stands  out  in  striking  completeness  of 
modellinff  by  the  side  of  the  bas-reliefs  of  other  medieval 
authors.'  *  The  dryness  of  the  ordinary  medieval  chronicler, 
his  apparent  unconsciousness  of  any  human  interest  beyond 
the  baldest  facts,  is  often  exasperating :  or  again,  when  he 
betrays  real  interest,  it  is  too  often  at  the  expense  of  fact.     Not 


6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

only  lives  of  saints,  but  whole  histories,  were  written  avowedly 
by  direct  angelic  revelation,  pure  fi-om  all  taint  of  earthly 
documents.*  But,  fortunately  for  us,  Salimbene  had  more  modern 
notions  of  the  historian's  duty.  With  him,  fact  comes  first, 
and  even  edification  takes  a  subordinate  place.  "  Whereas  I 
may  seem  sometimes  to  digress  from  the  matter  in  hand,"  he 
says,  "  it  must  be  forgiven  me.  I  cannot  tell  my  stories  otherwise 
than  as  they  came  about  in  very  deed,  and  as  I  saw  with  mine 
own  eyes  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II ;  yea,  and 
many  years  after  his  death,  even  unto  our  own  days  wherein  I 
write  these  words,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1284  "  (185).  Later 
on  (217)  he  gives  us  further  evidence  of  his  anxiety  to  learn 
the  exact  truth  of  the  stories  current  in  his  own  day  :  and  the 
passage  is  interesting  also  as  exemplifying  the  difficulties  which 
ordinary  medieval  writers  experienced  in  producing  even  a 
single  copy  of  their  work.  He  is  speaking  of  a  book  of  his,  which 
unfortunately  has  not  survived :  "  The  chronicle  beginning 
*  Octavianus  Ccesar  Augustus,  ctc.^  which  I  wrote  in  the  convent 
of  Ferrara  in  the  year  1250 ;  the  style  of  which  chronicle  I 
gathered  from  divers  writings,  and  continued  it  as  far  as  to  the 
story  of  the  Lombards.  Afterwards  I  slackened  my  quill,  and 
ceased  to  write  upon  that  chronicle,  being,  indeed,  so  poor  that 
I  could  procure  neither  paper  nor  parchment.  And  now  we 
are  in  the  year  1284 :  yet  I  ceased  not  to  write  divers  other 
chronicles  which,  in  mine  own  judgment,  I  have  excellently 
composed,  and  which  I  have  purged  of  their  superfluities,  follies, 
falsehoods,  and  contradictions.  Nevertheless,  1  could  not  purge 
them  of  all  such ;  for  some  things  which  have  been  written  are 
now  so  commonly  noised  abroad  that  the  whole  world  could  not 
remove  them  from  the  hearts  of  men  who  have  thus  learnt  them 
from  the  first.  Whereof  I  could  show  many  examples ;  but  to 
rude  and  unlearned  people  all  examples  are  useless;  as  it  is 
written  in  Ecclesiasticus,  'He  that  teacheth  a  fool,  is  like  one 
that  glueth  a  potsherd  together.'  "  Nor  are  these  mere  idle 
boasts.  With  all  his  partiality  here  and  there — a  partiality  the 
more  harmless  because  it  is  so  naively  shown — Salimbene  stands 
the  test  of  comparison  with  independent  documents  quite  as  well 
as  Villani.  Among  modern  writers,  those  who  have  least  reason 
to  love  him  are  glad  to  avail  themselves  of  his  authority.  The 
footnotes  to  the  three  volumes  of  Analecta  Franciscana,  by 
which  the  friars  of  Quaracchi  have  laid  modern  students  imder 
such  heavy  obligations,  swarm  with  references  to  Salimbene, 
whose  data  are  constantly  used  to  correct  even  so  painstaking  a 
compiler  as  Wadding. 


The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene.  7 

Amid  all  that  has  been  written  of  the  thirteenth  century,  there 
is  extraordinarily  little  to  guide  the  general  reader  in  a  compari- 
son between  those  men's  real  lives  and.  ours.  It  is  true  that  the 
main  ebb  and  flow  of  their  conflicts  in  Church  and  State  has  often 
been  related  ;  the  theory  of  their  institutions  has  been  described 
and  analysed ;  we  have  excellent  studies  of  the  lives  and  ideals 
of  some  of  their  greatest  men.  All  this  is  most  important,  yet 
it  says  comparatively  little  to  the  ordinary  reader,  who,  without 
leisure  for  special  study,  often  craves  nevertheless  to  compare 
other  states  of  life  witn  his  own.  Even  the  student  of  greater 
leisure  and  opportunities  can  find  but  little  answer  to  the  all- 
important  question,  "  Which  would  be  the  better  to  live  and  die 
in,  a  world  with  those  institutions  and  ideals,  or  a  world  with 
ours  ? "  Those  who  have  set  themselves  most  definitely  to 
answer  this  question  have  too  often  placed  themselves  from 
the  outset  at  a  necessarily  distorting  point  of  view.  They  have 
painted  the  medieval  life  mainly  after  medieval  theories  of 
Church  and  State,  or  after  the  lives  of  a  few  great  men.  Yet 
there  never  was  an  age  in  which  theory  was  more  hopelessly 
divorced  from  practice  than  in  the  thirteenth  century  ;  or  in 
which  great  men  owed  more  of  their  greatness  to  a  passionate 
and  lifelong  protest  against  the  sordid  realities  of  common  life 
around  them.  The  Franciscan  gospel  of  poverty  and  humility 
was  preached  to  a  world  in  which  money  and  rank  had  far  more 
power  than  in  modern  England  ;  and  there  is  scarcely  a  page 
of  the  Divina  Commedia  that  does  not  breathe  a  sense  of  the 
terrible  contrast  between  Catholic  theory  and  Catholic  life. 
Dean  Church,  in  one  of  his  essays,  shows  himself  fully  alive  to 
the  danger  of  judging  an  age  simply  after  the  pattern  of  its 
great  men.^  Yet  perhaps  no  writer  on  the  Middle  Ages  follow- 
ed this  dangerous  path  more  closely  than  Church's  great  Oxford 
master,  with  all  his  genius  and  his  natural  love  of  truth.  New- 
man's pictures  of  the  Middle  Ages  have  all  the  charm  and  the 
earnest  personal  conviction  of  his  best  writings,  but  they  have 
often  scarcely  more  coiTCspondence  with  the  historical  facts  of 
any  state  of  society  than  has  Plato's  Republic.  A  momentary 
survey  of  periods  with  which  we  are  more  familiar  will  at  once 
show  us  how  fatally  history  of  this  kind  must  take  the  colour  of 
the  writer's  personal  ideals  and  prepossessions,  in  the  absence  of 
unciuestionable  landmarks  to  correct  the  play  of  his  imagination. 
What  conception  could  we  form  of  the  real  diftbrences  between 
our  life  and  that  of  our  seventeenth-century  ancestors  from  even 
the  most  brilliant  and  penetrating  comparisons  between  Jeremy 
Taylor  and  Liddon,  Hobbes  and  Herbert  Spencer,  Clarendon 


8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  Carlyle  ?     At  the  best,  such  studies  could  only  illustrate  and 
complete  a  real  history  written  from  very  different  sources. 

Such  sources  are  abundant  enough  for  the  actual  ways  and 
thoughts  of  the  people  in  the  Middle  Ages  :  yet  a  vast  amount  of 
work  remains  to  be  done  before  the  historian  of  the  future  can 
give  lis  a  full  and  intimate  picture  of  thirteenth  century  life. 
The  foundation  needs  first  to  be  laid  in  a  series  of  exhaustive 
monographs  with  full  references,  such  as  Dr.  Rashdall'  Universi- 
ties of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages,  Dr.  Dresdner's  Kxdtur-und 
Sittcngcschichte  der  Italienischen  Geistlichkeity  and  Dr.  Lea's 
admirable  books  on  the  Inquisition,  Confession,  Indulgences,  and 
Celibacy.  Yet  such  monographs  are  still  far  too  few  :  many  of 
the  most  important  documents  are  still  unprinted  :  many  of  those 
in  print  have  been  most  imperfectly  read  and  discussed ;  and  a 
period  of  acute  controversy  must  necessarily  come  before  we  can 
arrive  at  even  a  rough  agreement  as  to  the  main  facts.  Though 
the  history  of  medieval  civilization  needs  most  care  of  all — 
for  here  at  every  step  we  move  among  the  flames,  or  at  least 
over  the  smouldering  ashes,  of  passionate  convictions  and  pre- 
judices— it  is  still  the  one  domain  of  history  into  which,  in 
England  at  least,  the  scientific  spirit  has  least  penetrated.  Even 
the  new  series  of  English  Church  histories  published  by  Messrs. 
Macmillan — nay,  the  Cambridge  Modern  History  itself — are 
shorn  of  half  their  use  to  the  serious  student  by  the  entire  absence 
of  references  or  similar  guarantees  of  literary  good  faith.  No 
bank  can  exist  in  these  days  without  publishing  its  balance- 
sheets  :  yet  we  are  still  expected  to  accept  teaching  which  may 
be  more  vital  than  money,  upon  the  ipse  dixit  of  this  or  that 
writer.  Half  our  religious  quarrels  are  due  to  this  habit  of 
writing  without  references,  and  therefore  too  often  in  reliance 
upon  evidence  which  will  not  bear  serious  criticism.  The  tempta- 
tion is  too  strong  for  human  nature.  Whether  a  writer's 
prepossessions  be  pro-medieval  or  anti-medieval,  he  can  count 
upon  a  sympathetic  public  of  his  own,  and  upon  comparative 
immunity  from  criticism ;  since  his  separate  blunders,  unsup- 
ported by  references,  can  be  traced  and  exposed  only  with  the 
greatest  difficulty ;  and,  in  the  present  state  of  public  opinion, 
nobody  thinks  the  worse  of  him  for  making  the  most  sweeping 
statements  without  adequate  documentary  vouchers.  The 
inevitable  result  is  that  well-meaning  men,  whom  a  careful  study 
of  their  opponents'  sources  would  soon  bring  to  some  sort  of 
rough  agreement,  spend  their  lives  beating  the  air  in  wild  attempts 
to  strike  an  adversary  who  is  heating  himself  with  equally  vain 
and  violent  demonstrations  after  his  own  fashion.     Moving  in 


The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene.  9 

wholly  different  planes,  with  scarcely  a  single  point  of  possible 
contact,  they  are  necessarily  carried  farther  apart  at  every  step ; 
and  the  consciousness  of  their  own  good  faith  in  the  main  compels 
them  to  look  upon  their  mysteriously  perverse  adversaries  as 
Jesuits  or  Atheists  (as  the  case  may  be)  in  disguise.  At  the 
same  time,  the  general  reader  is  rather  annoyed  than  interested 
by  interruptions.  I  have,  therefore,  omitted  footnotes  as  far  as 
possible,  not  even  marking  the  necessarily  frequent  omissions 
of  repetitions  and  irrelevancies  in  direct  quotations  from 
Salimbene — omissions  which  sometimes  run  to  a  page  or  more — 
but  simply  giving  page-references  by  means  of  which  students 
can  always  verify  my  translations.  To  the  general  reader  I 
offer  the  guarantee  of  good  faith  already  explained  in  my 
preface,  viz.,  an  undertaking  to  print  at  my  own  expense  the 
first  criticism  of  my  methods  which  any  scholar  may  care  to 
send  me,  to  the  extent  of  36  octavo  pages.  Those  who  may 
wish  to  verify  my  illustrations  from  other  sources  will  find  full 
quotations  in  the  notes  (Appendix  A),  whither  1  have  also 
relegated  a  good  deal  of  detailed  evidence  interesting  in  its 
bearing  upon  my  subject,  but  too  lengthy  to  find  a  place  in 
the  text.  I  have  found  it  hopeless,  however,  to  give  in  a 
book  of  this  compass  more  than  a  very  small  fraction  of  the 
evidence  which  I  have  collected  during  the  past  nine  years  to 
show  that  what  Salimbene  describes  is  nothing  exceptional,  but 
simply  the  normal  state  of  thirteenth-century  society.  For  he  is 
indeed  the  natural  and  artless  chronicler  of  ordinary  life  in  the 
age  of  St.  Francis  and  Dante.  As  with  Pepys  or  Boswell,  his 
very  failings  as  a  man  are  to  his  advantage  as  a  historian  ;  and, 
for  us,  his  lively  interest  in  all  sorts  of  men  more  than  counter- 
balances his  occasional  lukewarmness  of  family  affection.  The 
figures  which  too  often  stalk  like  dim  ghosts  through  the  pages 
of  far  more  famous  authors,  startle  us  here  with  their  almost 
modern  reality.  They  move  indeed  in  a  world  differing  from 
ours  to  an  extent  almost  past  belief,  except  to  those  who  have 
carefully  measured  the  strides  of  civilization  even  during  the 
past  century  :  yet  the  most  startling  of  his  anecdotes  are  cor- 
roborated by  unimpeachable  independent  testimony.  All  the 
documents  of  the  thirteenth  century,  from  poems  and  romances 
to  saints'  lives  and  bishops'  registers,  yield  to  the  patient  student 
scattered  bones  from  which  a  complete  skeleton  of  the  society  of 
that  time  might  be  built  up.  Beyond  this,  there  are  a  few  authors 
who  in  themselves  show  us  something  more  than  mere  bones — 
Joinville,  for  instance,  and  Cicsarius  of  Ileisterbach,  and  Thomas 
of  Chantimprc.     But  Salimbene  alone  shows  us  every  side  of  hi? 


lo  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

age,  clothed  all  round  in  living  flesh,  and  answering  in  every  part 
to  the  dry  bones  we  find  scattered  elsewhere. 

The  history  of  his  MS.  is  sufficient  to  explain  why  he  is  as 
yet  so  little  known :  for  it  is  difficult  to  do  much  with  a 
notoriously  imperfect  text.  The  reader  will,  however,  find  a 
good  deal  about  Salimbene  in  Gebhart's  fascinating  Vltalie 
Mystique^  and  La  Renaissance  Italienne.  He  has  been  the 
subject  of  learned  monographs  by  Professors  Cledat  of  Lyons 
and  Michael  of  Innsbruck,  the  latter  of  whom  analyses  the  book 
very  fully  and  without  too  obvious  partiality.  A  very  short 
abstract  of  the  Chronicle  has  been  printed  in  English  by  Mr. 
Kington  Oliphant ;  and,  quite  recently,  Miss  Macdouell  has 
dealt  with  Salimbene  at  some  length  on  pp.  252  foil,  of  her 
Sons  of  Francis.  Lively  and  interesting  as  this  chapter  is,  it 
fails,  however,  to  give  an  adequate  idea  either  of  the  contents 
of  Salimbene's  book,  or  of  his  value  as  a  historian.  The  author, 
though  she  quotes  from  the  Latin  text,  has  evidently  worked 
almost  entirely  from  Cantarelli's  faulty  Italian  translation,  of 
which  she  herself  speaks,  somewhat  ungratefully,  with  exag- 
gerated scorn.  Not  only  has  she  followed  Cantarelli  blindly 
in  all  his  worst  blunders — quoting,  for  instance,  as  specially 
characteristic  of  Salimbene's  attitude  towards  Frederick  II  a 
paragraph,  which,  in  fact,  describes  a  different  man  altogether 
(p.  300) — but  she  adds  several  of  her  own.  The  greatest  weak- 
ness of  her  study,  however,  is  that  her  comparative  unfamiliarity 
with  other  first-hand  contemporary  sources  tempts  her  to 
depreciate  Salimbene's  value  as  a  faithful  mirror  of  his  times. 
She  evidently  looks  upon  certain  perfectly  normal  facts  as  strange 
and  exceptional ;  and  her  essay,  though  well  worth  reading, 
fails  in  this  respect  to  do  justice  to  its  subject.' 

In  the  following  pages  1  have  made  no  attempt  to  translate 
the  Chronicle  in  the  exact  state  in  which  Salimbene  left  it.  The 
good  friar  jotted  things  down  just  as  they  came  into  his  head, 
with  ultra-medieval  incoherence :  "  For  the  spirit  bloweth 
whither  it  listeth,  neither  is  it  in  man's  poAver  to  hinder  the 
spirit,"  as  he  says  after  one  of  his  wildest  digressions.  Whole 
pages  are  filled  with  mere  lists  of  Scripture  texts,  often  apparently 
strung  together  from  a  concordance,  though  he  undoubtedly 
knew  his  Bible  thoroughly  well.  Pages  more  are  occupied  with 
records  of  historical  events  compiled  from  other  chronicles  :  the 
parentheses  and  repetitions  are  multitudinous  and  bewildering. 
The  book  as  it  stands  is  less  a  history  than  materials  for  a 
history,  like  the  miscellaneous  paper  bags  from  which  Hofrath 
Heuschrecke  compiled  the  biography  of   Teufelsdrockh.     The 


The  Autobiography  of  Brother  Salimbene.  1 1 

only  possible  way  of  introducing  the  real  Salimbene  to  the  modern 
public  is  to  translate  or  summarize  all  the  really  characteristic 
portions  of  the  Chronicle,  reducing  them  by  the  way  to  some  sort 
of  order.  But  I  have  been  compelled  to  omit  a  good  deal  both 
from  my  author's  text  and  from  the  scope  of  my  illustrations  : 
for  there  is  one  side  of  medieval  life  which  cannot  be  discussed 
in  a  book  of  this  kind.  To  the  darkest  chapter  in  Celano's  life 
of  St.  Francis  I  have  barely  alluded  ;  and  I  have  turned  aside 
altogether  from  the  most  terrible  canto  in  the  Inferno.  The 
student  will,  however,  find  in  Appendix  C  the  original  Latin 
of  certain  passages  and  allusions  omitted  from  the  text. 


Chapter  II. 
Parentage  and  Boyhood* 

BROTHER  Salimbene  di  Adamo  was  born  of  a  noble  family  at 
Parma,  in  1221,  the  year  of  St.  Dominic's  death.  One  of 
his  sponsors  was  the  Lord  Balian  of  Sidon,  a  great  baron  of 
France  who  had  been  viceroy  for  Frederick  II  in  the  Holy  Land. 
"  My  father  was  Guido  di  Adamo,  a  comely  man  and  a  valiant 
in  war,  who  once  crossed  the  seas  for  the  succour  of  the  Holy 
Land,  in  the  days  of  Baldwin,  Count  of  Flanders,  before  my 
birth.  And  I  have  heard  from  him  that,  whereas  other  Lombards 
in  the  Holy  Land  enquired  of  diviners  concerning  the  state  of 
their  houses  at  home,  my  father  would  never  enquire  of  them  ; 
and,  on  his  return,  he  found  all  in  comfort  and  peace  at  home  ; 
but  the  others  found  evil,  as  the  diviners  had  spoken.  Further- 
more, 1  have  heard  from  my  father  that  his  charger,  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  to  the  Holy  Land,  was  commended  for  its 
beauty  and  worth  above  those  of  all  the  rest  who  were  of  his 
company.  Again,  1  have  heard  from  him  that,  when  the 
Baptistery  of  Parma  was  founded,  he  laid  stones  in  the  foundations 
for  a  sign  and  a  memorial  thereof,  and  that  on  the  spot  whereon 
the  Baptistery  is  built  had  been  formerly  the  houses  of  my 
kinsfolk,  who  after  the  destruction  of  their  houses,  went  to 
Bologna"  (37).  In  1222  occurred  the  Great  Earthquake  in 
Lombardy,  attributed  by  the  orthodox  to  God's  anger  against 
the  heretics,  who  swarmed  in  France,  Germany  and  Italy,  and 
who  in  Berthold  of  Ratisbon's  excited  imagination  numbered 
a  round  hundred-and-fifty  sects.^  The  common  folk,  however, 
when  their  first  panic  was  over,  treated  it  rather  as  a  joke  : 
"  They  became  so  hardened  by  the  earthquake  that,  when  a 
pinnacle  of  a  tower  or  a  house  fell,  they  would  gaze  thereon 
with  shouts  and  laughter.  My  mother  hath  told  me  how  at  the 
time  of  that  earthquake  I  lay  in  my  cradle,  and  how  she  caught 
up  my  two  sisters,  one  under  each  arm,  for  they  were  but  babes 
as  yet.  So,  leaving  me  in  my  cradle,  she  ran  to  the  house  of 
her  father  and  mother  and  brethren,  for  she  feared  (as  she  said), 


Parentage  and  Boyhood.  13 

lest  the  Baptistery  should  fall  on  her,  since  our  house  was  hard 
by.  Wherefore  I  never  since  loved  her  so  dearly,  seeing  that 
she  should  have  cared  more  for  me,  her  son,  than  for  her 
daughters.  But  she  herself  used  to  say  that  they  were  easier 
for  her  to  carry,  being  better  grown  than  I"  (34).  Yet  he 
describes  her  as  a  most  loveable  woman,  in  spite  of  her  perverse 
choice  on  that  eventful  day.  "  She  was  named  the  Lady  Imelda, 
a  humble  lady  and  devout,  fasting  much  and  gladly  dispensing 
alms  to  the  poor.  Never  was  she  seen  to  be  wroth ;  never  did 
she  smite  any  of  her  maidservants  with  her  hand.  In  winter, 
she  would  ever  have  with  her,  for  the  love  of  God,  some  poor 
woman  from  the  mountains,  who  found  in  the  house  both  lodging 
and  food  and  raiment  all  winter  long  ;  and  yet  my  mother  had 
other  maids  who  did  the  service  of  the  house.  Wherefore  Pope 
Innocent  [the  IVth,  who  knew  her  personally]  gave  me  letters 
at  Lyons  that  she  might  be  of  the  order  of  St.  Clare,  and  the 
same  he  gave  another  time  to  Brother  Guido,  my  blood-brother, 
when  he  was  sent  on  a  mission  from  Parma  to  the  Pope.  She 
lieth  buried  in  the  convent  of  the  ladies  of  St.  Clare ;  may  her 
soul  rest  in  peace  1  Her  mother,  that  is,  my  grandmother,  was 
called  the  Lady  Maria,  a  fair  lady  and  a  full-fleshed,  sister  to 
the  Lord  Aicardo,  son  to  Ugo  Amerigi,  who  were  judges  in  Parma, 
rich  men  and  powerful,  and  dwelt  hard  by  the  church  of  St. 
George  "  (55).  The  implication  in  this  remark  about  the  maid- 
servants is  only  too  fully  justified  by  all  contemporary  evidence. 
The  Confessionale,  a  manual  for  parish  priests,  variously  at- 
tributed to  St.  Bonaventura,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  Albertus 
Magnus,  specifies  the  canonical  penances  to  be  imposed  for  some 
sixty  probable  transgressions.  One  of  them  runs,  "  If  any 
woman,  inflamed  by  zealous  fury,  have  so  beaten  her  maid- 
servant that  she  die  in  torments  within  the  third  day,  .... 
if  the  slaying  have  been  wilful,  let  her  not  be  admitted  to  the 
communion  for  seven  years  ;  but  if  it  have  been  by  chance,  let 
her  be  admitted  after  five  years  of  legitimate  penance."  A 
stock  case  in  Canon  Law  is  that  of  the  priest  who,  wishing  to  beat 
his  servant  with  his  belt,  had  the  misfortune  to  wound  him  v\^ith 
the  dagger  thereto  attached.  A  Northumbrian  worthy  in  1279, 
striking  at  a  girl  with  a  cudgel,  struck  and  killed  by  mistake 
the  little  boy  whom  she  held  in  her  arms  ;  the  jury  treated  it  as 
a  most  pardonable  misadventure,  though  he  showed  his  sense  of 
having  sailed  very  close  to  the  wind  by  absconding  until  the  trial 
was  over.  It  is  necessary,  indeed,  on  the  threshold  of  any  out- 
spoken study  of  medieval  life,  to  recognise  the  essential  difference 
between   past   and  present  manners  in  this  matter  of  personal 


14  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

violence.  On  this  subject,  as  on  so  many  others,  a  false  glamour 
has  been  thrown  over  the  past  by  writers  who  have  studied  only 
the  theory  of  knightly  courtesy,  without  making  any  attempt  to 
gauge  the  actual  practice.  The  instances  of  brutality  to  women 
in  high  life  quoted  by  Leon  Gautier  and  Alwin  Schulz  from  the 
Chansons  dc  Geste  might  be  multiplied  almost  indefinitely.  The 
right  of  wifebeating  was  formally  recognised  by  more  than  one 
code  of  laws  :  and  it  was  already  a  forward  step  when,  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  the  Coutumes  du  Beauvoisis  provided  "  que  le 
man  ne  doit  battre  sa  femme  que  raisonnablcment.^^  But  what 
were  the  limits  of  reason  in  this  matter,  to  the  medieval  mind  ? 
We  may  infer  them  fairly  well  from  the  tales  told  by  the  Knight 
of  La  Tour-Landry  (1372)  for  the  instruction  of  his  daughters. 
He  tells,  for  instance,  how  a  lady  so  irritated  her  husband  by 
scolding  him  in  company,  that  he  struck  her  to  the  earth  with  his 
fist  and  kicked  her  in  the  face,  breaking  her  nose.  Upon  this 
the  good  Knight  moralises,  "And  this  she  had  for  her  euelle 
and  gret  langage,  that  she  was  wont  to  saie  to  her  husbonde. 
And  therefor  the  wiff  aught  to  sufFre  and  lete  the  husbonde 
haue  the  wordes,  and  to  be  maister,  for  that  is  her  worshippe." 
This  was  also  the  opinion  of  St.  Bernardino,  who  said  in  a 
public  sermon  :  "  And  I  say  to  you  men,  never  beat  your  wives 
while  they  are  great  with  child,  for  therein  would  lie  great  peril. 
I  say  not  that  you  should  never  beat  them,  but  choose  your  time. 
.  .  .  .  I  know  men  who  have  more  regard  for  a  hen  that 
lays  a  fresh  eg^  daily,  than  for  their  own  wives  :  sometimes  the 
hen  will  break  a  pot  or  a  cup,  and  the  man  will  not  beat  her,  for 
the  mere  fear  of  losing  the  Ggg  that  is  her  fruit.  How  stark 
mad  are  many  that  cannot  suffer  a  word  from  their  own  lady 
who  bears  such  fair  fruit  :  for  if  she  speak  a  word  more  than 
he  thinks  fit,  forthwith  he  seizes  a  staff  and  begins  to  chastise 
her  :  and  the  hen,  which  cackles  all  day  without  ceasing,  you 

suffer  patiently  for  her  egg's  sake Many  a  man,  when 

he  sees  his  wife  less  clean  and  delicate  than  he  would  fain  see 
her,  strikes  her  forthwith ;  and  the  hen  may  befoul  your  table, 
and  yet  you  have  patience  with  her  :  why  not,  then,  with  her  to 
whom  you  owe  patience  ?  Seest  thou  not  the  hog,  too,  always 
grunting  and  squealing  and  defiling  thy  house  I  yet  thou  sufferest 
him  until  slaughter-time.  Thy  patience  is  but  for  the  fruit's 
sake  of  the  beast's  flesh,  that  thou  mayst  eat  it.  Bethink  thee, 
wretch,  bethink  thee  of  the  noble  fruit  of  thy  lady,  and  have 
patience  ;  it  is  not  meet  to  beat  her  for  every  trifle,  no  !  " 
Moreover,  it  is  the  same  story  if  we  pass  upwards  from  such  a 
citizen's  house,  where  the  pigs  and  the  fowls  were  as  familiar  as 


Parentage  and  Boyhood.  15 

in  an  Irish  cabin,  and  peep  into  the  palace  of  Frederick  II,  the 
wonder  of  the  world.  Weary  of  his  wife,  the  Emperor  had 
seduced  her  cousin :  and  Jean  de  Brienne,  exasperated  by  this 
double  wrong  to  his  daughter  and  his  niece,  talked  loudly  of 
washing  it  out  in  blood.  i?herefore  the  Emperor  "  so  threatened 
and  beat  the  Empress  as  almost  to  slay  the  babe  in  her  womb." 
We  get  a  similar  glimpse  of  the  relations  between  Frederick's 
father  and  mother — the  Costanza  of  Par.  iii,  118.  "I  have 
heard,"  writes  Etienne  de  Bourbon,  "  that  when  the  father  of  the 
Ex-Emperor  Frederick  had  gone  to  bed,  and  the  Empress  his 
spouse  would  fain  come  to  him,  and  had  taken  off  in  his  presence 
her  head-attire  with  a  great  mass  of  false  hair,  then  he  began  to 
call  his  knights  and  squires,  and  in  their  presence,  loathing  that 
hair  as  a  piece  of  carrion,  he  cried  aloud  as  one  raving :  '  Quick, 
quick  !  bear  away  this  carrion  from  my  room  and  burn  it  in  the 
fire,  that  ye  may  smell  its  evil  savour  :  for  I  will  have  no  dead 
wife,  but  a  living  one.' "  When  these  things  were  done  in  the 
green  tree  of  their  honeymoon,  we  need  scarcely  wonder  that 
Salimbene  should  give  a  sad  account  of  their  married  life  in  the 
dry,  after  deep  political  differences  had  multiplied  the  causes  of 
quarrel.  "  There  was  grievous  discord  and  war  between  these 
two,  so  that  wise  and  learned  men  were  wont  to  say  these  are 
not  as  Ecclesiasticus  teacheth,  '  man  and  wife  that  agree  well 
together  : '  while,  again,  buffoons  would  say  '  if  one  should  now 
cry  Mate  I  to  the  King,  the  Queen  would  not  defend  him  '  "  (359). 
Nor  was  it  the  rougher  sex  alone  which  permitted  itself  such 
violence,  as  Salimbene  has  already  hinted.  We  may  find  the 
exact  antithesis  of  the  good  Imelda  in  Benvenuto  da  Imola's 
description  of  another  lady  of  high  rank  in  Dante's  Florence — 
the  Cianghella  of  Par.  xv,  128.  "  She  was  most  arrogant  and 
intolerable ;  she  was  wont  to  go  through  the  house  with  a 
bonnet  on  her  head  after  the  fashion  of  the  Florentine  ladies, 
and  with  a  staff  in  her  hand  ;  now  she  would  beat  the  serving- 
man,  now  the  cook.  So  it  befell  once  that  she  went  to  mass 
at  the  convent  of  Friars  Preachers  in  Imola,  not  far  from 
her  own  house ;  and  there  a  friar  was  preaching.  Seeing, 
therefore,  that  none  of  the  ladies  present  rose  to  make  room  for 
her,  Cianghella  was  inflamed  with  wrath  and  indignation,  and 
began  to  lay  violent  hands  on  one  lady  after  another,  tearing  hair 
and  false  tresses  on  the  one  hand,  wimple  and  veil  on  the  other. 
Some  suffered  this  not,  but  began  to  return  her  blow  for  blow, 
whereat  there  arose  so  great  noise  and  clamour  in  the  church 
that  the  men  standing  round  to  hear  the  sermon  began  to  laugh 
with  all  their  might,  and  the  preacher  laughed  with  them,  so 


1 6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

that  the  sermon  ended  thus  in  merriment."  One  wonders  how 
Cianghella's  children  were  brought  up  ;  and  we  might  almost  be 
tempted  to  look  for  one  of  them  in  the  contemporary  boy  who 
was  sent  by  his  mother  "  to  the  common  prison  of  Florence,  to 
be  there  retained  until  he  return  to  his  good  senses."^ 

Salimbene,  however,  grew  up  under  very  different  home 
influences.  "  My  father's  mother  was  the  Lady  Ermengarda. 
She  was  a  wise  lady,  and  was  a  hundred  years  old  when  she  went 
the  way  of  all  flesh.  With  her  I  dwelt  fifteen  years  in  my 
father's  house ;  how  often  she  taught  me  to  shun  evil  company 
and  follow  the  right,  and  to  be  wise,  and  virtuous,  and  good,  so 
often  may  God's  blessing  light  upon  her  !  For  oft-times  she 
taught  me  thus.  She  lieth  buried  in  the  aforesaid  sepulchre, 
which  was  common  to  us  and  to  the  rest  of  our  house  "  (54). 

An  equally  definite  religious  influence  was  that  of  an  old 
neighbour  on  the  Piazza  Vecchia :  "  The  Lord  Guidolino  da 
Enzola,  a  man  of  middle  stature,  rich  and  most  renowned  and 
devoted  beyond  measure  to  the  Church,  whom  1  have  seen  a 
thousand  times.  Separating  himself  from  the  rest  of  the  family, 
who  dwelt  in  the  Borgo  di  Santa  Cristina,  he  came  and  dwelt 
hard  by  the  Cathedral  Church,  which  is  dedicated  to  the  glorious 
Virgin,  wherein  he  daily  heard  mass  and  the  whole  daily  and 
nightly  offices  of  the  Church,  each  at  the  fit  season ;  and  when- 
soever he  was  not  busied  with  the  offices  of  the  Church,  he  would 
sit  with  his  neighbours  under  the  public  portico  by  the  Bishop's 
Palace,  and  speak  of  God,  or  listen  gladly  to  any  who  spake  of 
Him.  Nor  would  he  ever  suffer  children  to  cast  stones  against 
the  Baptistery  or  the  Cathedral  to  destroy  the  carvings  or  paint- 
ings' ;  for  when  he  saw  any  such  he  waxed  wroth  and  ran  swiftly 
against  them  and  beat  them  with  a  leather  thong  as  though  he 
had  been  specially  deputed  to  this  office ;  yet  he  did  it  for  pure 
godly  zeal  and  divine  love,  as  though  he  said  in  the  Prophet's 
words,  '  The  zeal  of  thy  house  hath  eaten  me  up.'  Moreover, 
this  said  lord,  besides  the  orchard  and  town  and  palace  wherein 
he  lived,  had  many  other  houses,  and  an  oven  and  a  wine  cellar  ; 
and  once  every  week,  in  the  road  hard  by  his  house,  he  gave  to 
all  the  poor  of  the  whole  city  who  would  come  thither  a  general 
dole  of  bread  and  sodden  beans  and  wine,  as  I  have  seen,  not 
once  or  twice  only,  with  mine  own  eyes.  He  was  a  close  friend 
of  the  Friars  Minor,  and  one  of  their  chief  benefactors  "  (609). 
For  a  man  of  such  exceptional  piety,  Guidolino  was  unfortunate 
in  his  descendants.  His  son  Jacobino,  who  bought  Salimbene's 
father's  house,  was  an  usurer,  and  failed  miserably  as  Podesta 
of  Reggio,  leaving  a   son   who   was   the  hero   of  a  somewhat 


Parentage  and  Boyhood.  1 7 

disreputable  quarrel.  His  only  daughter,  the  Lady  Rikeldina, 
"  was  a  worldly  and  wanton  woman,"  and  married  a  rich  lord  who 
"  consumed  all  his  substance  with  his  banquetings  and  buffoons 
and  courtly  fashions  ;  so  that  his  sons  must  needs  starve  unless 
they  Avould  beg,  as  one  of  them  told  me  even  weeping." 

The  Chronicler  has  warm  words  of  praise  for  most  of  his  elder 
relations :  "  fair  ladies  and  wise  "  ;  "a  very  fair  lady  " ;  "  an 
honourable  lady  and  devout " ;  "a  fair  lady,  wise  and  honour- 
able, who  ended  her  days  in  a  convent "  ;  "  the  most  fair  lady 
Caracosa,  excellent  in  prudence  and  sagacity,  who  ruled  her  house 
most  wisely  after  her  husband's  death."  There  was  evidently 
a  definitely  religious  note  in  the  family,  though  this,  in  good 
medieval  society,  was  perfectly  consistent  with  the  fact  that  our 
chronicler's  father  had  a  son  by  a  concubine  named  Rechelda  (54). 
He  had  also  three  legitimate  sons.  First  came  Guido,  by  a  first 
wife,  "  the  lady  Ghisla  of  the  family  de'  Marsioli,  who  were  of  old 
noble  and  powerful  men  in  the  city  of  Parma.  They  dwelt  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  Piazza  Vecchia,  hard  by  the  Bishop's  Palace  ; 
whereof  I  have  seen  a  great  multitude,  and  certain  of  them  were 
clad  in  robes  of  scarlet,  more  especially  such  as  were  judges.  They 
were  also  kinsfolk  of  mine  own  through  my  mother,  who  was 
daughter  to  the  Lord  Gerardo  di  Cassio,  a  comely  old  man,  who 
died  (as  I  think)  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  years.  He  had  three 
sons ;  the  lord  Gerardo,  who  wrote  the  Book  of  Composituoi,  for  he 
was  an  excellent  writer  of  the  more  noble  style ;  the  Lord  Bernardo, 
who  was  a  man  of  no  learning,  but  simple  and  pure  ;  and  the 
Lord  Ugo,  who  was  a  man  of  learning,  judge  and  assessor.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  mirth,  and  went  ever  with  the  Podestas  to 
act  as  their  advocate"  (55).  This  eldest  brother  Guido  married 
into  a  greater  family  still.  "  My  brother  Guido  was  a  mai'ried 
man  in  his  worldly  life,  and  a  father,  and  a  judge  ;  and  afterwards 
he  became  a  priest  and  a  preacher  in  the  Order  of  the  Friars 
Minor.  His  wife  was  of  the  Baratti,  who  boast  that  they  are  of 
the  lineage  of  the  Countess  Matilda,  and  that  in  the  service  of 
the  Commune  of  Parma  forty  knights  of  their  house  go  forth  to 
war  "  (38).  It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  our  chronicler,  as  he 
tells  us  on  another  page,  should  have  owed  special  reverence  to 
the  great  protectress  of  the  Church  whom  Dante  also  set  on  so 
high  a  pinnacle,  if  we  are  to  accept  the  almost  unanimous  opinion 
of  the  early  commentators.  When  Guido  became  a  friar,  his 
wife  entered  a  convent,  and  their  only  daughter  was  that  Agnes 
for  whom,  in  her  Franciscan  convent  of  Parma,  Salimbene  wrote 
part  at  least,  of  his  Chronicle.  It  is  noteworthy  that  of  the 
sixty-two  persons  who  are  named  in  this  genealogy,  no  less  than 


1 8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

fourteen  became  monks,  friars,  or  nuns,  while  five  were  knights 
and  three  were  judges. 

After  Guido  came  Nicholas,  who  "died  while  he  was  yet  a 
child,  as  it  is  written,  '  while  I  was  yet  growing  he  cut  me  off' 
(38).  "  The  third  am  I,  Brother  Salirabene,  who  entered  the 
Order  of  the  Friars  Minor,  wherein  I  have  lived  many  years,  as 
priest  and  preacher,  and  have  seen  many  things,  and  dwelt  in 
man}'  provinces,  and  learnt  much.  And  in  my  worldly  life  I 
was  called  by  some  Balian  of  ISidon^  by  reason  of  the  above- 
mentioned  lord  who  held  me  at  the  sacred  font.  But  by  my 
comrades  and  my  family  I  was  called  Ognibene  {All-good),  by 
which  name  I  lived  as  a  novice  in  our  Order  for  a  whole  year 
long"  (38). 

The  name  seems  to  indicate  a  docile,  impressionable  disposition, 
and  all  Salimbene's  home  memories  point  the  same  way.  "  From 
my  very  cradle  I  was  taught  and  exercised  in  [Latin]  grammar  " 
(277).  In  other  respects,  his  upbringing  must  necessarily  have 
been  rough,  however  favourable  it  may  have  been  for  those 
times-  Home  life  even  among  the  highest  classes  in  the  13th 
century  was  such,  in  many  of  its  moral  and  sanitary  conditions, 
as  can  now  be  found  only  among  the  poor.  The  children  had 
ordinarily  no  separate  bedroom,  but  slept  either  with  their 
parents  or  with  servants  and  strangers  on  the  floor  of  the  hall. 
Thomas  of  Celano,  describing  the  home  education  of  St.  Francis's 
day,  and  showing  by  his  present  tenses  that  things  were  still  the 
same  in  the  generation  in  which  he  wrote,  gives  a  piature  which 
we  might  well  dismiss  as  an  unhealthy  dream  if  it  were  not  so 
accurately  borne  out  by  the  repeated  assertions  of  Gerson  150 
years  later.  "  Boys  are  taught  evil  as  soon  as  they  can  babble," 
says  Celano,  "  and  as  they  grow  up  they  become  steadily  worse, 
until  they  are  Christians  only  in  name."  As  half-fledged  youths 
the}"^  ran  wild  in  the  streets  :  and  we  cannot  imderstand  the 
Friars  until  we  have  realized  how  many  of  them  had  plunged 
into  Religion,  like  Salimbene,  just  at  the  age  when  a  boy  begins 
to  realize  dimly  the  responsibilities  of  a  man,  and  to  look  back 
upon  what  already  seem  long  years  spent — as  his  awakened 
imagination  may  now  warn  him  with  even  hysterical  emphasis — 
in  the  service  of  the  Devil. 

Our  author  had  three  sisters  also,  "  fair  ladies  and  nobly  wed- 
ded," of  whom  the  first  was  the  Lady  Maria,  married  to  the 
Lord  Azzo,  cousin-gcrman  to  the  Lord  Guarino,  who  was  of  kin 
to  the  Pope  [Innocent  IV].  He  had  many  other  relations  and 
connections  of  noble  rank  and  distinction  in  other  ways.  His 
musical  tastes  came  partly  by  birth  and  partly  by  education. 


Parentage  and  Boyhood.  19 

(54).  "  My  father's  sister  was  the  mother  of  two  daughters, 
Grisopola  and  Vilana,  excellent  singers  both.  Their  father,  the 
Lord  Martino  de'  Stefani,  was  a  merry  man,  pleasant  and  jocund, 
who  loved  to  drink  wine ;  he  was  an  excellent  musician,  yet  no 
buffoon.  One  day  in  Cremona  he  beguiled  and  out-witted 
Master  Gerardo  Patechio,  who  wrote  the  Book  of  Pests*.  But 
he  was  well  worthy  to  be  so  out-witted,  and  deserved  all  that  be- 
fell him." 

Having  come  to  the  end  of  this  genealogy — or  nearly  to  the 
end,  for  he  throws  in  occasional  postscripts  afterwards — he 
explains  why  he  has  entered  into  such  full  details.  (56)  "  Lo 
here  I  have  written  the  genealogy  of  my  kinsfolk  beyond  all  that 
I  had  purposed  ;  yet,  for  brevity's  sake,  I  have  omitted  to  des- 
cribe many  men  and  women,  both  present  and  past.  But  since 
I  had  begun,  it  seemed  good  to  me  to  finish  the  same,  for  five 
reasons.  First,  for  that  my  niece.  Sister  Agnes,  who  is  in  the 
convent  of  the  nuns  at  St.  Clare  in  Parma,  wherein  she  enclosed 
herself  for  Christ's  sake  while  she  was  yet  a  child,  hath  begged 
me  to  write  it  by  reason  of  her  father's  grandmother,  of  whom 
she  could  obtain  no  knowledge.  Now  therefore  she  may  learn 
from  this  genealogy  who  are  her  ancestors  both  on  the  father's 
and  on  the  mother's  side.  Moreover,  my  second  reason  for 
writing  this  genealogy  was,  that  Sister  Agnes  might  know  for 
whom  she  ought  to  pray  to  God.  The  third  reason  was  the 
custom  of  men  of  old  time,  who  wrote  their  genealogies  ;  whence 
it  is  written  of  certain  folk  in  the  book  of  Nehemiah  that  they 
were  cast  forth  from  the  priesthood,  for  that  they  could  not  find 
the  writings  of  their  genealogies.  The  fourth  reason  was,  that 
by  reason  of  this  genealogy  I  have  said  certain  good  and  profitable 
words  which  otherwise  1  should  not  have  said.  The  fifth  and 
last  was,  that  the  truth  of  those  words  of  the  Apostle  James 
might  be  shown,  wherein  he  saith,  '  For  what  is  your  life  ?  It  is 
a  vapour  which  appeareth  for  a  little  while  and  afterwards  shall 
vanish  away.'  The  truth  of  which  saying  may  be  shown  in  the 
case  of  many  whom  death  hath  earned  off  in  our  days ;  for 
within  the  space  of  sixty  years  mine  own  eyes  have  seen  all 
but  a  few  of  those  whom  I  have  written  in  the  table  of  my 
kindred,  and  now  they  have  departed  from  us  and  are  no  longer 
in  the  world.  I  have  seen  m  my  days  many  noble  houses 
destroyed,  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  To  take  example  from 
near  at  hand,  in  the  city  of  Parma  my  mother's  house  of  the 
Cassi  is  wholly  extinct  in  the  male  branch  ;  the  house  of  the 
Pagani,  whom  I  have  seen  noble,  rich,  and  powerful,  is  utterly 
extinct;  likewise  the  house  of  the  Stefani,  whom  I  have  seen  in 


20  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

great  multitude,  rich  men  and  powerful.  Consider  now  that  we 
shall  go  to  the  dead  rather  than  they  shall  return  to  us,  as  David 
saith,  speaking  of  his  dead  son.  Let  us  therefore  be  busy  about 
our  own  salvation  while  we  have  time,  lest  it  be  said  of  us  as  shall 
be  said  of  those  of  whom  Jeremiah  speaketh,  'The  harvest  is 
past,  the  summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved.'  Of  which 
matter  1  have  written  above  at  sufficient  length."  Dante  students 
will  no  doubt  notice  the  strong  similarity  between  this  last  passage 
and  Purg.  XIV.  9,  foil.,  where  the  Pagani  are  among  the  families 
whose  decay  the  poet  bewails.  The  same  cry  is  constant  through 
the  Middle  Ages,  no  doubt  partly  because  the  noble  families, 
forming  a  specially  fighting  caste,  were  specially  liable  to  sudden 
extinction ;  partly  also  because  they  led  such  irregular  lives. 
Berthold  of  Ratisbon  complains  that  "  so  few  great  lords  reach 
their  right  age  or  die  a  right  death,"  and  ascribes  this  to  their 
careless  upbringing  and  to  the  oppressions  which,  when  grown  to 
man's  estate,  they-  exercise  upon  the  poor*. 


Chapter  III. 
The  Great  Alleluia. 

WHEN  Salimbene  was  in  his  twelfth  year,  an  event  occurred 
which  undoubtedly  impressed  him  deeply,  and  probably 
determined  his  choice  of  a  career.  This  was  the  great  North 
Italian  religious  revival  of  1233,  which  was  called  The  Alleluia, 
There  is  an  excellent  article  on  this  and  similar  medieval  revivals 
in  Italy  by  J.  A.  Symonds,  in  the  Comhill  for  January,  1875. 
But  no  chronicler  tells  the  great  Alleluia  of  1233  with  anything 
like  the  same  picturesque  detail  as  Salimbene.  (70)  "  This 
Alleluia,  which  endured  for  a  certain  season,  was  a  time  of  peace 
and  quiet,  wherein  all  weapons  of  war  were  laid  aside  ;  a  time  of 
merriment  and  gladness,  of  joy  and  exultation,  of  praise  and  re- 
joicing. And  men  sang  songs  of  praise  to  God  ;  gentle  and  simple, 
burghers  and  country  folk,  young  men  and  maidens,  old  and  young 
with  one  accord.  This  devotion  was  held  in  all  the  cities  of  Italy  ; 
and  they  came  from  the  villages  to  the  town  with  banners,  a  great 
multitude  of  people ;  men  and  women,  boys  and  girls  together, 
to  hear  the  preaching  and  to  praise  God.  And  they  sang  God's 
songs,  not  man's  ;  and  all  walked  in  the  way  of  salvation.  And 
they  bare  branches  of  trees  and  lighted  tapers  ;  and  sermons 
were  made  at  evening  and  in  the  morning  and  at  midday,  accord- 
ing to  the  word  of  the  Prophet,  '  Evening,  and  morning,  and  at 
noon  will  I  pray  and  cry  aloud,  and  He  shall  hear  my  voice.'  And 
men  held  stations  in  the  churches  and  the  open  places,  and  lifted 
up  their  hands  to  God,  to  praise  and  bless  Him  for  ever  and  ever  ; 
and  they  might  not  cease  from  the  praises  of  God,  so  drunken 
were  they  with  His  love  ;  and  blessed  was  he  who  could  do  most 
to  praise  God.  No  wrath  was  among  them,  no  trouble  nor  hatred, 
but  all  was  done  in  peace  and  kindliness ;  for  they  had  drunken 
of  the  wine  of  the  sweetness  of  God's  spirit,  whereof  if  a  man 
drink,  flesh  hath  no  more  savour  to  him.  Wherefore  it  is 
commanded  to  preachers,  *  Give  strong  drink  to  them  that  are 
sad,  and  wine  to  them  that  are  grieved  in  mind.  Let  them  drink 
and  forget  their  want,  and  remember  their  sorrow  no  more.' 


22  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

And  forasmuch  as  the  Wise  Man  saith,  '  Where  there  is  no 
governor,  the  people  shall  fall,'  lest  it  be  thought  that  these  had 
no  leader,  let  me  tell  now  of  the  leaders  of  those  congregations. 
First  came  Brother  Benedict  to  Parma,  who  was  called  the 
Brother  of  the  Horn,  a  simple  man  and  unlearned,  and  of  holj 
innocence  and  honest  life,  whom  also  I  saw  and  knew  familiarly, 
both  at  Parma  and  afterwards  at  Pisa.  This  man  had  joined 
himself  unto  no  religious  congregation,  but  lived  after  his  own 
conscience,  and  busied  himself  to  please  God  ;  and  he  was  a 
close  friend  of  the  Friars  Minor.  He  was  like  another  John 
the  Baptist  to  behold,  as  one  who  should  go  before  the  Lord  and 
make  ready  for  him  a  perfect  people.  He  had  on  his  head  an 
Armenian  cap,  his  beard  was  long  and  black,  and  he  had  a  little 
horn  of  brass,  wherewith  he  trumpeted  ;  terribly  did  his  horn 
bray  at  times,  and  at  other  times  it  would  make  dulcet  melody. 
He  was  girt  with  a  girdle  of  skin,  his  robe  was  black  as  sack- 
cloth of  hair,  and  falling  even  to  his  feet.  His  rough  mantle 
was  made  like  a  soldier's  cloak,  adorned  both  before  and  behind 
with  a  red  cross,  broad  and  long,  from  the  collar  to  the  foot, 
even  as  the  cross  of  a  priest's  chasuble.  Thus  clad  he  went 
about  with  his  horn,  preaching  and  praising  God  in  the  churches 
and  the  open  places  ;  and  a  great  multitude  of  children  followed 
him,  oft-times  with  branches  of  trees  and  lighted  tapers.  More- 
over I  myself  have  oft-times  seen  him  preaching  and  praising 
God,  standing  upon  the  wall  of  the  Bishop's  Palace,  which  at 
that  time  was  a-building.  And  thus  he  began  his  praises,  saying 
in  the  vulgar  tongue,  '  Praised  and  blessed  and  glorified  be  the 
Father.'  Then  would  the  children  repeat  in  a  loud  voice  that 
which  he  had  said.  And  again  he  would  repeat  the  same  words, 
adding  '  be  the  Son ;  '  and  the  children  would  repeat  the  same, 
and  sing  the  same  words.  Then  for  the  third  time  he  would 
repeat  the  same  words,  adding  '  be  the  Holy  Ghost ' ;  and  then 
'  Alleluia,  alleluia,  alleluia  I '  Then  would  he  sound  with  his 
trumpet ;  and  afterwards  he  preached,  adding  a  few  good  words 
in  praise  of  God.  And  lastly,  at  the  end  of  his  preaching,  he 
would  salute  the  blessed  Virgin  after  this  fashion  : — 

•  Ave  Maria,  clemens  et  pia,  etc.,  etc.' " 

But  Brother  Benedict  was  far  outdone  in  popularity  by  the 
great  Franciscan  and  Dominican  preachers.  There  was  Brother 
Giacomino  of  Reggio,  a  learned  man,  and  in  later  life  a  friend 
of  our  chronicler's,  who  so  wrought  upon  his  hearers  that 
great  and  small,  gentle  and  simple,  boors  and  burghers,  worked 


The  Great  Alleluia.  23 

for  the  building  of  the  Dominican  Church  at  Reggio.  Blessed 
was  he  who  could  bring  most  stones  and  sand  and  lime  on  his 
back,  without  regard  for  his  rich  furs  and  silks,  for  Brother 
Giacomino  would  stand  by  to  see  that  the  work  was  well  done. 
This  Brother  held  a  great  preaching  between  Calerno  and  Sant' 
llario,  whereat  was  a  mighty  multitude  of  men  and  women,  boys 
and  girls,  from  Parma  and  Reggio,  from  the  mountains  and 
valleys,  from  the  field  and  from  divers  villages.  And  it  came  to 
pass  that  a  poor  Avoman  of  low  degree  brought  forth  among  the 
multitude  a  man  child.  Then,  at  the  prayer  and  bidding  of 
Brother  Giacomino,  many  of  those  present  gave  many  gifts  to 
that  poor  woman.  For  one  gave  her  shoes,  another  a  shirt, 
another  a  vest,  another  a  bandage  ;  and  thus  she  had  a  whole 
ass's  load.  Moreover,  the  men  gave  one  hundred  imperial  solidi. 
One  who  was  there  present,  and  saw  all  these  things,  related  them 
to  me  a  long  while  afterwards,  as  I  was  passing  with  him  through 
this  same  place ;  and  I  have  also  heard  the  same  from  others." 
(73)  There  was  another  Franciscan  of  Padua,  "  who  was  preach- 
ing at  Cumae  on  a  certain  feast  day,  and  a  usurer  was  having  his 
tower  built :  and  the  friar,  impeded  by  the  tumult  of  the  work- 
men, said  to  his  hearers  '  I  forewarn  you  that  within  such  and 
such  a  time  this  tower  will  fall  and  be  ruined  to  the  very  found- 
ations ' :  and  so  it  came  to  pass,  and  men  held  it  a  great  miracle. 
Note  Ecclesiasticus  xxxvii,  18  and  Proverbs  xvii,  16,  and  the 
example  of  the  man  who  foretold  the  fall  of  the  tower,  and 
Grilla's  son,  and  the  three  pumpkins,  in  one  of  which  was  a 
mouse  :  he  happened  to  tell  all  things  by  chance  as  they  were, 
and  therefore  he  was  hailed  as  a  prophet"  (74).  Then  there 
was  "Brother  Leo  of  Milan,  who  was  a   famous  and  mighty 

Ereacher,  and  a  great  persecutor  and  confuter  and  conqueror  of 
eretics " — a  panegyric  which  shows  how  soon  the  Order  had 
lost  the  sweet  reasonableness  which  was  one  of  the  most 
striking  characteristics  of  St.  Francis.  "  He  was  so  bold 
and  stout-hearted  that  once  he  went  forward  alone,  standard 
in  hand,  before  the  army  of  Milan  which  was  marching 
against  the  Emperor ;  and,  crossing  the  stream  by  a  bridge, 
he  stood  long  thus  with  the  standard  in  his  hands,  while  the 
Milanese  shrank  from  crossing  after  him,  for  fear  of  the 
Emperor's  battle-array.  This  Brother  Leo  once  confessed  the 
lord  of  a  certain  hospital  at  Milan,  who  was  a  man  of  great  name 
and  much  reputed  for  his  sanctity.  While  he  was  at  his  last 
gasp.  Brother  IjCo  made  him  promise  to  return  and  tell  him  of 
his  state  after  his  death,  which  he  willingly  promised.  His  death 
was  made  known  through  the  city  about  the  hour  of  vespers. 


24  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Brother  Leo  therefore  prayed  two  Brethren,  who  had  been  his 
special  companions  while  yet  he  was  Minister  Provincial,  to  watch 
Avith  him  that  night  in  the  gardener's  cell  at  the  corner  of  the 
garden.  While,  therefore,  they  all  three  watched,  a  light  sleep 
fell  upon  Brother  Leo  ;  and,  wishing  to  slnmber,  he  prayed  his 
comrades  to  awake  him  if  they  heard  anything.  And  lo  !  they 
suddenly  heard  one  who  came  wailing  with  bitter  grief ;  and 
they  saw  him  fall  swiftly  from  heaven  like  a  globe  of  fire,  and 
swoop  upon  the  roof  of  the  cell  as  when  a  hawk  stoops  to  take  a 
duck.  At  this  sound,  and  at  the  touch  of  the  brethren.  Brother 
Leo  awoke  from  his  sleep  and  enquired  how  it  stood  with  him, 
for  ever  he  wailed  with  the  same  woful  cries.  He  therefore 
answered  and  said  that  he  was  damned,  because  in  his  wrath  he 
had  suffered  baseborn  children  to  die  unbaptized  when  they  had 
been  laid  at  the  hospital  door,  seeing  to  what  travail  and  cost 
the  spital  was  exposed  by  such  desertion  of  children.  When, 
therefore.  Brother  Leo  enquired  of  him  why  he  had  not  confessed 
that  sin,  he  answered  either  that  he  had  forgotten  it,  or  that  he 
thought  it  unworthy  of  confession.  To  whom  the  Brother  replied, 
'  Seeing  that  thou  hast  no  part  or  lot  with  us,  depart  from  us  and 
go  thine  own  way  !  '  so  the  soul  departed,  crying  and  wailing  as 
it  went"  C74).  Brother  Leo's  subsequent  history  is  interesting. 
The  Chapter  of  Milan,  disagreeing  hopelessly  about  the  election 
of  an  Archbishop,  agreed  to  leave  the  choice  in  his  hands.  After 
due  reflection,  he  announced,  "  Since  you  have  so  good  an  opinion 
of  me,  1  name  myself  Archbishop."  The  people,  surprised  at 
first  by  this  decision,  presently  applauded  it,  and  the  Pope 
approved.  After  sixteen  years'  rule,  however,  Leo  left  the  city 
a  prey  to  civil  strife,  and  for  fourteen  years  the  Milanese  refused 
to  accept  his  successor,  in  spite  of  the  army  and  the  Papal 
anathemas  with  which  he  supported  his  claim.^ 

After  Leo  came  Brother  Gerard  of  Modena,  "  one  of  the  first 
Brethren  of  our  Order,  yet  not  one  of  the  Twelve.  He  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  St.  Francis,  and  at  times  his  travelling- 
companion  "  (75).  He  was  of  noble  birth,  strict  morals,  and 
great  eloquence,  though  his  learning  was  small.  "  He  it  was 
who,  in  the  year  1238,  prayed  Brother  Elias  to  receive  me  into 
the  Order,  and  I  was  once  his  travelling-companion.  When  I  call 
him  to  mind,  I  always  think  of  that  text,  '  He  that  hath  small 
understanding  and  feareth  God  is  better  than  one  that  hath  much 
wisdom,  and  transgresseth  the  law  of  the  Most  High.'  With 
him  I  also  lay  sick  at  Ferrara  of  that  sickness  whereof  he  died ; 
and  he  went  about  New  Year's  tide  to  Modena,  where  he  gave  up 
the  ghost.     He  was  buried  in  the  church  of  the  Brethren  Minor, 


The  Great  Alleluia.  25 

in  a  tomb  of  stone  ;  and  through  him  God  hath  deigned  to  work 
manj  miracles,  which,  for  that  they  be  written  elsewhere,  I  here 
omit  for  brevity's  sake."  Several  of  these  are  recorded  by 
Angelo  Clareno  {Arckiv.  Bd.  ii.  p.  268)  ;  they  are  mostly  of  the 
common  type,  but  one  bears  a  very  suspicious  resemblance  to  this 
bogus  miracle  which  Salimbene  relates  immediately  below.  (76) 
"  One  thing  1  must  not  omit,  namely  that,  at  the  time  of  the 
aforesaid  devotion,  these  solemn  preachers  were  sometimes 
gathered  together  in  one  place,  where  they  would  order  the 
matter  of  their  preachings ;  that  is,  the  place,  the  day,  the  hour, 
and  the  theme  thereof.  And  one  would  say  to  the  other,  '  Hold 
fast  to  that  which  we  have  ordered  ' ;  and  this  they  did  without 
fail,  as  they  had  agreed  among  themselves.  Brother  Gerard 
therefore  would  stand,  as  I  have  seen  with  mine  own  eyes,  in  the 
Piazza  Communale  of  Parma,  or  wheresoever  else  it  pleased  him, 
on  a  wooden  stage  which  he  had  made  for  his  preaching  ;  and, 
while  the  people  waited,  he  would  cease  from  his  preaching,  and 
draw  his  hood  deep  over  his  face,  as  though  he  were  meditating 
some  matter  of  God.  Then,  after  a  long  delay,  as  the  people 
marvelled,  he  would  draw  back  his  hood  and  open  his  mouth  in 
such  words  as  these  :  '  I  was  in  the  spirit  on  the  Lord's  day,  and 
I  heard  our  beloved  brother,  John  of  Vicenza,  who  was  preaching 
at  Bologna  on  the  shingles  of  the  river  Reno,  and  he  had  before 
him  a  great  concourse  of  people  ;  and  this  was  the  beginning  of 
his  sermon  :  Blessed  are  the  people  whose  God  is  the  Lord 
Jehovah,  and  blessed  are  the  folk  that  he  hath  chosen  to  him 
to  be  his  inheritance.'  So  also  would  he  speak  of  Brother 
Giacomino  ;  so  spake  they  also  of  him.  The  bystanders  marvel- 
led and,  moved  with  curiosity,  some  sent  messengers  to  learn  the 
truth  of  these  things  that  were  reported.  And  having  found 
that  they  were  true,  they  marvelled  above  measure,  and  many, 
leaving  their  worldly  business,  entered  the  Orders  of  St.  Francis 
or  St.  Dominic.  And  much  good  was  done  in  divers  ways  and 
divers  places  at  the  time  of  that  devotion,  as  I  have  seen  with 
mine  own  eyes.*  Yet  there  were  also  at  the  time  many  deceivers 
and  buffoons  who  would  gladly  have  sought  to  bring  a  blot  upon 
the  Elect.  Among  whom  was  Buoncompagno  of  Florence,  who 
was  a  great  master  of  grammar  in  the  city  of  Bologna.  This 
man,  being  a  great  buffoon,  as  is  the  manner  of  the  Florentines, 
wrote  a  certain  rhyme  in  derision  of  Brother  John  of  Vicenza, 
whereof  I  remember  neither  the  beginning  nor  the  end,  for  that 
it  is  long  since  1  read  it,  nor  did  I  even  then  fully  commit  it  to 
memory,  seeing  that  1  cared  not  greatly  for  it.  But  therein 
were  these  words  following,  as  they  come  to  my  memory  : — 


26  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

John,  in  his  Johannine  way 

Dances  all  and  every  day. 

Caper  freely,  skip  for  joy, 

Ye  who  hope  to  reach  the  sky  ! 

— Dancers  left  and  dancers  right. 

Thousands,  legions  intinite — 

Noble  ladies  dance  in  rhythm. 

Doge  of  Venice  dances  with  'em,  etc.,  etc' 

Furthermore,  this  master  Buoncompagno,  seeing  that  Brother 
John  took  upon  himself  to  work  miracles,  would  take  the  same 
upon  himself ;  wherefore  he  promised  to  the  men  of  Bologna 
that,  in  the  sight  of  all,  he  would  presently  fly.  In  brief,  the 
report  was  noised  abroad  through  Bologna,  and  on  the  appointed 
day  the  whole  city,  men  and  women,  boys  and  old  men,  were 
gathered  together  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  is  called  Santa 
Maria  in  Monte.  He  had  made  for  himself  two  wings,  and  stood 
now  looking  down  upon  them  from  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 
And  when  they  had  stood  thus  a  long  while  gazing  one  at  the 
other,  he  opened  his  mouth  and  spake,  '  Go  ye  hence  with  God's 
blessing,  and  let  it  suffice  you  that  ye  have  gazed  on  the  face  of 
Buoncompagno  1 '  Wherefore  they  withdrew,  knowing  that  they 
were  mocked  of  him  "  (78). 

John's  strange  career  is  described  at  length  in  Symonds's 
article,  and  still  more  fully  in  an  exhaustive  monograph  by  C. 
Sutter  {Johann  v.  Vicenza.  Freib.  i/B.  1891).  Matthew  Paris 
(an.  1238)  tells  how  he  crossed  rivers  dry  shod,  and  by  his  mere 
word  compelled  eagles  to  stoop  in  their  flight.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  contemporary  satire  on  his  reported  miracles  was  attributed 
to  Piero  delle  Vigne,  and  Guido  Bonatti  complained  that  he  had 
sought  for  years  in  vain  to  meet  any  one  of  the  eighteen  men 
whom  John  was  said  to  have  raised  from  the  dead.*  At  the  back 
of  all  these  legends,  however,  lies  the  certain  fact  that  many 
cities  of  Italy  entrusted  him  and  other  friars  (e.g.  Gerard  of 
Modena)  with  dictatorial  powers  during  this  Alleluia  year,  per- 
mitting them  to  make  or  remodel  laws  as  they  pleased.  John 
was  made  Lord  of  Vicenza,  with  the  titles  of  Duke  and  Count  ; 
and  it  was  apparently  these  honours  which  finally  turned  his  head. 
He  used  his  power  so  recklessly  that  he  was  cast  into  prison, 
from  which  he  emerged  a  discredited  and  neglected  man.  But, 
already  in  the  Alleluia  year,  Salimbene  tells  us  how  he  "had 
come  to  such  a  pitch  of  madness  by  reason  of  the  honours  which 
were  paid  him,  and  the  grace  of  preaching  which  he  had,  that  he 
believed  himself  able  in  truth  to  work  miracles,  even  without 
God's  help.  And  when  he  was  rebuked  by  the  Brethren  for  the 
many  follies  which  he  did,  then  he  answered  and  spake  unto  them : 


The  Great  Alleluia.  27 


*  I  it  was  who  exalted  your  Dominic,  whom  ye  kept  twelve  years 
hidden  in  the  earth,  and,  unless  ye  hold  your  peace,  I  will  make 
your  saint  to  stink  in  men's  nostrils  and  will  publish  your  doings 
abroad'  (78).  For  [at  the  time  of  the  Alleluia]  the  blessed 
Dominic  was  not  yet  canonized,  but  lay  hidden  in  the  earth,  nor 
was  there  any  whisper  of  his  canonization  ;  but,  by  the  travail 
of  this  aforesaid  Brotlier  John,  who  had  the  grace  of  preaching 
in  Bologna  at  the  time  of  that  devotion,  his  canonization  was 
brought  about.  To  this  canonization  the  Bishop  of  Modena  gave 
his  help  ;  for  he,  being  a  friend  of  the  Friars  Preachers,  impor- 
tuned them,  saying,  '  Since  the  Brethren  Minor  have  a  saint  of 
their  own,  ye  too  must  so  work  as  to  get  yourselves  another,  even 
though  ye  should  be  compelled  to  make  him  of  straw  '  (72).  So, 
hearing  these  words  of  Brother  John,  they  bore  with  him  until 
his  death,  for  they  knew  not  how  they  might  rise  up  against  him.' 
This  man,  coming  one  day  to  the  house  of  the  Brethren  Minor, 
and  letting  shave  his  beard  by  our  barber,  took  it  exceeding  ill 
that  the  brethren  gathered  not  the  hairs  of  his  beard,  to  preserve 
them  as  relics.  But  Brother  Diotisalve,  a  Friar  Minor  of 
Florence,  who  was  an  excellent  buffoon  after  the  manner  of  the 
Florentines,  did  most  excellently  answer  the  fool  according  to 
his  folly,  lest  he  should  be  wise  in  his  own  conceit.  For,  going 
one  day  to  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Preachers,  when  they  had 
invited  him  to  dinner,  he  said  that  he  would  in  no  wise  abide 
with  them,  except  they  should  first  give  him  a  piece  of  the  tunic 
of  Brother  John,  who  at  that  time  was  there  in  the  house,  that 
he  might  keep  it  for  a  relic.  So  they  promised,  and  gave  him 
indeed  a  great  piece  of  his  tunic,  which,  after  his  dinner,  he  put  to 
the  vilest  uses,  and  cast  it  at  last  into  a  cesspool.  Then  cried  he 
aloud  saying,  '  Alas,  alas  1  help  me,  brethren,  for  I  seek  the  relic 
of  your  saint,  which  1  have  lost  among  the  filth.'  And  when  they 
had  come  at  his  call  and  understood  more  of  this  matter,  they 
were  put  to  confusion  ;  and,  seeing  themselves  mocked  of  this 
buffoon,  they  blushed  for  shame.  This  same  Brother  Diotisalve 
once  received  an  Obedience  (i.e.,  command)  to  go  and  dwell  in 
the  province  of  Penna,  which  is  in  Apulia.  Whereupon  he  went 
to  the  infirmary  and  stripped  himself  naked,  and,  having  ripped 
open  a  feather  bed,  he  Jay  hid  therein  all  day  long  among  the 
feathers  (Lat.  in  pennis\  so  that,  when  he  was  sought  of  the 
brethren,  they  found  him  there,  saying  that  he  had  already 
fulfilled  his  ()bedience  ;  wherefore  for  the  jest's  sake  he  was 
absolved  from  his  Obedience  and  went  not  thither.  Again,  as 
he  went  one  day  through  the  city  of  Florence  in  winter  time,  it 
came  to  pass  that  he  slipped  upon  the  ice  and  fell  at  full  length. 


28  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

At  which  the  Florentines  began  to  laugh,  for  they  are  much  given 
to  buffoonery  ;   and  one  of   them  asked  of  the  friar  as  he  lay 

"  (79).     The  dialogue  which  our  good  Franciscan  here 

records  is  unfortunately  quite  impossible  in  modern  print.  He 
himself  had  evidently  some  qualms  about  reporting  it,  for  he 
goes  on  :  "  The  Florentines  took  no  offence  at  this  saying,  but 
rather  commended  the  friar,  saying  '  God  bless  him,  for  he  is 
indeed  one  of  us  ! '  Yet  some  say  that  this  answer  was  made  by 
another  Florentine,  Brother  Paolo  Millemosche  (Thousand-flies) 
by  name.  Now  we  should  ask  ourselves  whether  this  brother 
answered  well  or  not ;  and  I  reply  that  he  answered  ill,  for  many 
reasons.  First,  because  he  acted  contrary  to  the  Scripture 
which  saith,  '  Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,  lest  thou 
also  be  like  unto  him.'  Secondly,  for  that  the  answer  was 
unhonest,  since  a  religious  man  ought  to  answer  as  becometh 
a  religious.  Whence  James  saith,  '  If  any  man  among  you 
seem  to  be  religious,  and  bridleth  not  his  tongue,  but  deceiveth 
his  own  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain.'  Again,  '  If  any  man 
speak,  let  him  speak  as  the  speech  of  God.'  And  Jerome  saith, 
*  Blessed  is  the  tongue  which  knoweth  not  to  speak,  save  of  God 
only.'  (Also  Eph.  iv,  29  and  Coloss.  iv,  6).  Thirdly,  in  that 
he  spake  an  idle  word,  whereof  our  Lord  saith  (Matt,  xii,  36). 
Now  that  word  is  idle  which  profiteth  neither  to  speaker  nor  to 
hearer,  wherefore  our  Lord  addeth  (Matt,  xii,  37)  ;  Ecclesiasti- 
cus  saith  (xxii,  27).  Fourthly,  in  that  he  who  speaketh  un- 
honest words  showeth  that  he  hath  a  vain  heart,  and  moreover 
giveth  to  others  an  ensample  of  sin  (1  Cor.  xv.  33).  But  hear 
the  remedy  or  vengeance  (Isa.  xxix.  20).  Of  the  vain  heart  we 
may  say  that  which  is  spoken  of  the  eye.  For  even  as  the 
immodest  eye  is  the  messenger  of  an  immodest  heart,  so  the  vain 
word  showeth  a  vain  heart.  Therefore  saith  the  Wise  Man 
(Prov.  iv.  23  and  xxx.  8).  Fifthly,  because  silence  is  commanded 
us  (Lam.  iii.  28;  Isa.  xxx.  15;  Exod.  xiv.  14;  Ps.  cvii.  30). 
It  is  written  that  the  Abbot  Agatho  kept  a  pebble  three  whole 
years  in  his  mouth  that  he  might  learn  to  be  silent.  Sixthly, 
because  much  speaking  is  condemned  (Prov.  x,  19,  and  7  similar 
texts).  Note  the  example  of  the  philosopher  Secundus,  by  whose 
speech  his  mother  met  her  death  ;  and  he.  by  reason  of  penitence, 
kept  silence  even  to  the  day  of  his  death ;  to  whom  we  might 
indeed  say,  *  If  thou  hadst  kept  silence,  thou  wouldst  have  been 
a  philosopher.'^  Again,  the  Apostle  bade  that  '  women  should 
keep  silence  in  churches,  for  it  is  not  permitted  unto  them  to 
speak,  but  they  are  commanded  to  be  under  obedience,  as  also 
saith  the  law ;  and  if  they  will  learn  anything,  let  them  ask  their 


The  Great  Alleluia.  29 

husbands  at  home,  for  it  is  a  shame  for  women  to  speak  in  the 
church.*  For  women  do  indeed  speak  much  in  church  ;  wherefore 
some  say  that  the  Apostle  forbade  not  to  women  useful  and 
laudable  speech,  as  when  they  praise  God,  or  when  they  confess 
tlieir  sins  to  the  priest ;  but  he  forbade  their  presuming  to  preach, 
an  office  which  is  known  to  belong  properly  to  men.  Which, 
indeed,  is  evident  from  this,  that  the  Apostle  was  speaking  only 
of  the  office  of  preaching.  But  Augustine  saith  that  speech  is 
therefore  forbidden  to  woman,  because  she  once  confounded  the 
whole  world  by  speaking  with  the  serpent.  .  .  .  The  eighth 
and  last  reason  is,  that  he  who  speaketh  base  and  unprofitable 
and  vain  and  unhonest  words  in  the  Order  of  the  Friars  Minor 
should  be  accused  and  punished  for  his  deeds  if  they  are  seen, 
or  his  words  if  they  are  heard.  And  this  is  right,  since  the  Lord's 
words  are  clean  words  ;  and  in  the  Rule  of  the  Friars  Minor  it  is 
said  that  their  speech  should  be  well-considered  and  clean  for  the 

Erofit  and  edification  of  the  people,  etc.^  ....  Yet  Brother 
)iotisalve,  by  reason  of  whom  I  have  written  this,  may  be  excused 
for  manifold  reasons.  However,  his  words  should  not  be  taken 
for  an  example,  to  be  repeated  by  another,  for  the  Wise  Man 
saith,  '  As  a  dog  that  returneth  to  his  vomit,  so  is  a  fool  that 
repeateth  his  folly.'  Now  the  first  reason  for  his  excuse  is  that 
he  answered  the  fool  according  to  his  folly,  lest  he  should  seem 
wise  in  his  own  eyes.  The  second  is,  that  he  meant  not  altogether 
as  his  words  sounded ;  for  he  was  a  merry  man,  as  Ecclesiasticus 
saith,  '  There  is  one  that  slippeth  with  the  tongue,  but  not  from 
his  heart.'  ....  The  third  reason  is  that  he  spake  to  his  fellow- 
citizens,  who  took  no  ill  example  from  his  words,  for  they  are 
merry  men  and  most  given  to  buffoonery.  Yet  in  another  place 
that  brother's  words  would  have  sounded  ill.  .  .  .  Moreover  I 
know  many  deeds  of  this  Brother  Diotisalve,  as  also  of  the 
Count  Guido  [da  Montefeltro],  of  whom  many  men  are  wont  to 
tell  many  tales,  yet  as  these  are  rather  merry  than  edifying,  I 
will  not  write  them.*  ....  Yet  one  thing  I  must  not  omit, 
namely,  that  the  Florentines  take  no  ill  example  if  one  go  forth 
from  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor,  nay,  they  rather  excuse  him, 
saying,  '  We  wonder  that  he  dwelt  among  them  so  long,  for  the 
Friars  Minor  are  desperate  folk,  who  afflict  themselves  in  divers 
ways.'  Once,  when  the  Florentines  heard  that  Brother  John  of 
Vicenza  would  come  to  their  city,  they  said,  '  For  God's  sake 
let  him  not  come  hither,  for  we  have  heard  how  he  raiseth  the 
dead,  and  we  are  already  so  many  that  there  is  no  room  for  us  in 
the  city.'  And  the  words  of  the  Florentines  sound  excellently 
well  in  their  own  idiom.  Blessed  be  God,  Who  hath  brought 
me  safe  to  the  end  of  this  matter." 


30  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

I  have  given  these  anecdotes  and  quotations  with  some 
approach  to  fulhiess  in  spite  of  their  apparent  irrelevance  to  the 
Alleluia,  because  they  are  well  calculated  to  give  the  reader  an 
idea  of  Salimbene's  discursive  stjle,  and  to  prepare  him  for 
many  strange  things  which  will  come  later  in  this  autobiography. 
It  may  indeed  seem  startling  that  a  friar  should  feel  it  necessary 
to  point  out  to  a  nun  (for  here  the  reference  to  his  niece  seems 
obvious)  that  St.  Paul  does  not  mean  to  forbid  women  from  join- 
ing in  the  service  as  members  of  the  congregation ;  or  again, 
that  he  should  relate  with  such  complacent  triumph  the  success 
of  bogus  miracles  concocted  by  two  of  the  greatest  revivalists  in 
the  century  of  St.  Francis.  For  not  only  had  Gerard  been  a 
close  companion  of  St.  Francis,  but  he  was  also  one  of  the  six 
"  solemn  ambassadors "  sent  to  the  Pope  in  1 236  to  protest 
against  Brother  Elias.  It  was  evidently  he  who  had  the  main 
share  in  Salimbene's  conversion,  and  after  his  death  he  was 
honoured  as  a  saint.  That  such  a  person  deliberately  reinforced 
his  preaching  by  false  miracles  seems  strange  enough ;  but  that 
a  clever  man  like  Salimbene  should  tell  it  in  this  matter-of-fact 
way,  in  the  same  breath  in  which  he  alludes  to  real  miracles 
wrought  by  his  sainted  friend,  seems  to  the  modern  mind  abso- 
lutely inexplicable,  and  the  Jesuit  professor  Michael  discreetly 
slurs  over  the  whole  story.  But  the  curious  reader  may  find 
abundant  evidence  of  the  same  kind  in  the  Treatise  on  Relics  of 
St.  Anselm's  pupil,  the  Abbot  Guibert  of  Nogent,  and  in  the 
Papal  letter  of  1238  to  the  Canons  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at 
Jerusalem,  who  forged  annually  on  Easter  Eve  miraculous  flames 
of  fire  which  even  Guibert,  a  century  earlier,  had  believed  to  be 
genuine.  One  of  the  greatest  men  of  Salimbene's  century, 
Cardinal  Jacques  de  Vitry,  relates  with  approval  an  equally 
false  miracle  of  a  priest  who  slipped  a  bad  penny  instead  of  the 
Host  into  the  mouth  of  a  miserly  parishioner  at  Easter  com- 
munion, and  then  persuaded  the  man  that  the  Lord's  body  had 
been  thus  transmuted,  for  his  punishment,  into  the  same  false 
coin  which  he  had  been  wont  to  offer  yearly  at  that  solemnity. 
Caesarius  of  Heisterbach  sees  nothing  but  a  triumph  for  the 
Christian  religion  and  for  the  "  God  of  Justice  "  in  the  fact 
that  a  cleric  of  Worms,  who  had  seduced  a  Jewess,  tricked 
the  parents  into  believing  that  the  child  to  be  born  would  be 
Messiah,  a  hope  which  was  miserably  frustrated  when  the  infant 
proved  to  be  a  girl.  The  good  Bishop  Thomas  of  Chantimpre 
does  indeed  blame  the  readiness  of  certain  prelates  in  religion  to 
tell  lies  for  the  profit  of  their  house  ;  yet  even  he  approves  a 
wife's  pious  deceit.     The  early  Franciscan  records  simply  swarm 


The  Great  Alleluia.  31 

with  pious  thefts  and  pious  lies.  St.  Rose  of  Viterbo,  St. 
Elizabeth  of  Hungary,  St.  Elizabeth  of  Portugal,  the  blessed 
Viridiana,  all  boast  an  incident  of  this  sort  as  one  of  their  chief 
titles  to  fame  ;  "  a  pious  theft,"  says  the  approving  Wadding  of 
the  last  case,  in  so  many  words."  St.  Francis  himself  began  his 
public  career  with  such  a  pious  theft ;  and  it  is  very  difficult  to 
understand  how,  in  the  face  of  the  early  biographers,  so  admir- 
able a  writer  as  M.  Sabatier  can  speak  of  the  Foligno  incident 
as  though  the  horse  and  cloth  had  really  been  the  Saint's  own. 
At  the  same  time,  he  is  a  great  deal  too  careful  to  allow  himself 
anything  like  Canon  Knox-Little's  astounding  assertion  that  St. 
Francis's  theft  is  a  figment  of  "modern  biographers,"  and  an 
example  of  "  modern  prejudice  or  stupidity  in  dealing  with  the 
facts  of  the  Middle  Ages."  If  the  Canon  had  consulted  so  ob- 
vious an  authority  as  Wadding,  he  would  have  found  that,  even 
in  the  face  of  Protestant  attacks,  the  learned  and  orthodox 
Romanist  Sedulius  felt  obliged  to  admit  the  evidence  against  St. 
Francis.  Moreover,  Wadding  himself,  in  the  middle  of  the  17th 
century,  deeply  as  he  resents  criticism  on  this  point,  ventures  only 
upon  a  half-hearted  defence.  His  main  argument,  involved  in  a 
cloud  of  words  which  betrays  his  embarrassment,  amounts  merely 
to  a  plea  that  the  goods  might  have  been  the  saint's  own,  or 
that  he  might  have  thought  them  such  ;  and,  admitting  the  possi- 
bility that  neither  of  these  alternatives  were  true,  he  falls  back  on  a 
timid  defence  which  really  embodies,  in  more  cautious  language, 
the  13th  century  theory.  "He  [Francis]  received  from  Christ, 
speaking  plainly  to  his  bodily  ears,  the  command  to  restore  this 
church,  and  although  the  Lord's  words  intended  otherwise,  yet 
he  understood  them  to  lay  on  him  the  task  of  repairing  that 
building  [of  St.  Damian].  Now  he  knew  full  well  that  Christ 
bade  no  impossibilities,  whence  he  inferred  not  without  proba- 
bility that,  if  he  was  to  obey  the  divine  command,  it  was  lawful 
to  him  to  take  of  his  father's  goods  where  his  own  sufficed  not." 
His  action,  concludes  Wadding,  was  therefore  worthy  not  of 
blame  but  of  praise  (Vol.  i.  p.  32).  To  Salimbene  and  his  readers 
in  the  13th  century,  the  line  of  thought  thus  laboriously  worked 
out  by  the  17th  century  apologist  was  natural  and  instinctive. 
The  miracles  had  impressed  men  who  would  otherwise  have  paid 
no  attention  to  the  Revival ;  they  were  a  most  successful 
stratagem  in  the  Holy  War :  they  would  have  been  discreditable 
only  if  they  had  failed.  Yet,  even  then,  there  were  a  few  who 
realized  that  "  nothing  can  need  a  lie,"'  and  who  were  almost  as 
much  embarrassed  as  edified  by  the  frequency  of  miraculous 
claims  around  them   or  in  their  midst.     David  of  Augsburg, 


32  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

whose  fundamental  good  sense  remained  unshaken  hy  his  religious 
fervour,  wrote  very  strongly  on  this  point.  "Visions  of  this 
sort  have  thus  much  in  common,  that  they  are  vouchsafed  not 
only  to  the  good,  but  often  to  the  evil  also.  Moreover,  that  they 
are  sometimes  true  and  teach  the  truth,  sometimes  deceptive  and 
delusive  as  Ezekiel  saith  (xiii.  7.)  Moreover,  that  they  neither 
make  nor  prove  their  seer  holy  :  otherwise  Baalam  would  be 
holy,  and  liis  ass  who  saw  the  Angel,  and  Pharaoh  who  saw 
prophetic  dreams.  Moreover,  even  if  they  are  true,  yet  in  them- 
selves they  are  not  meritorious ;  and  he  who  sees  many  visions  is 
not  therefore  the  better  man  than  he  who  sees  none,  as  also  in  the 
case  of  other  miracles.  Moreover,  many  men  have  often  been 
more  harmed  than  profited  by  such  things,  for  they  have  been 
puffed  up  thereby  to  vain-glory  :  many  also,  thinking  themselves 
to  have  seen  visions,  when  in  fact  they  had  seen  none,  seduced 
themselves  and  others,  or  turned  them  aside  to  greed  of  gain : 
many  again  have  falsely  feigned  to  see  visions,  lest  they  should 
be  held  inferior  to  others,  or  that  they  might  be  honoured  above 
others,  as  holier  men  to  whom  God's  secrets  were  revealed. 
Moreover,  in  some  folk  such  visions  are  wont  to  be  forerunners 
of  insanity ;  for  when  their  brain  is  addled,  and  clouded  with  its 
own  fumes,  the  sight  of  their  eyes  is  confounded  also,  until  a  man 
takes  for  a  true  vision  that  which  is  merely  fantastic  and  false,  as 
Ecclesiasticus  saith  (xxxiv.  6,.)"^*' 

These  words  of  David's  are  all  the  more  weighty,  because  he 
was  the  master  of  the  greatest  of  13th  century  mission-preachers, 
whose  fame  spread  through  Europe  only  a  few  years  after  the 
Great  Alleluia.  About  the  year  1250,  chroniclers  of  cities 
far  distant  from    each  other   mention  the  startlinar  appearance 


to 


ippea 


among  them  of  this  Berthold  of  Ratisbon,  whom  Salimbene 
describes  at  some  length  on  a  later  page,  in  connexion  with  John 
of  Parma's  friends  (559).  "  Now  let  us  come  to  Brother 
Berthold  of  Allemannia*  of  the  order  of  Friars  Minor ;  a  priest 
and  preacher  and  a  man  of  honest  and  holy  life  as  becometh  a 
Religious.  He  expounded  the  Apocalypse,^^  and  I  copied  out 
his  exposition  of  the  seven  bishops  of  Asia  only,  who  are  brought 
forward  under  the  title  of  Angels  in  the  beginning  of  the 
Apocalypse  :  this  I  did,  to  know  who  those  angels  were,  and 
because  I  had  Abbot  Joachim's  exposition  of  the  Apocalypse, 
which  I  esteemed  above  all  others.  Moreover,  this  Berthold 
made  a  great  volume  of  sermons  for  the  whole  course  of  the  year, 
both  for  feast  days  and  de  tempore,  i.e.^  for  the  Sundays  of  the 

*  Ratisbon  is  in  the  district  of  Germany  ouce  inhabited  by  the  Allemanni. 


The  Great  Alleluia.  33 

whole  year.  Of  which  sermons  I  copied  two  only,  for  that  they 
treated  excellently  of  Antichrist :  whereof  the  first  was  on  Luke 
ii.  34,  and  the  other  on  Matt,  viii,  23  :  for  both  teach  most  fully 
both  of  Antichrist  and  of  the  awful  judgment.^*  And  note  that 
Brother  Berthold  had  of  God  a  special  grace  of  preaching,  and 
all  who  have  heard  him  say  that  from  the  apostles  even  to  our 
own  day  there  hath  not  been  his  like  in  the  German  tongue.  He 
was  followed  by  a  great  multitude  of  men  and  women,  sometimes 
sixty  or  a  hundred  thousand,  sometimes  a  mighty  multitude  from 
many  cities  together,  that  they  might  hear  the  honeyed  words  of 
salvation  which  proceeded  from  his  mouth,  by  His  power  who 
'  giveth  His  voice  a  voice  of  might '  and  '  giveth  word  to  them 
that  preach  with  much  virtue.'  He  was  wont  to  ascend  a  belfry 
or  wooden  tower  made  almost  after  the  fashion  of  a  campanile, 
which  he  used  for  a  pulpit  in  country  places  when  he  wished  to 
preach  :  on  the  summit  whereof  a  pennon  also  was  set  up  by  those 
who  put  the  work  together,  so  that  the  people  might  see  whither 
the  wind  blew,  and  know  where  they  ought  to  sit  to  hear  best. 
And,  marvellous  to  relate  !  he  was  as  clearly  heard  and  understood 
by  those  far  from  him  as  by  those  who  sat  hard  by  ;  nor  was  there 
one  who  rose  and  withdrew  from  his  preaching  until  the  sermon 
was  ended.  And  when  he  preached  of  the  dreadful  day  of  doom, 
all  trembled  as  a  rush  quakes  m  the  water  :  and  they  would  beg 
him  for  God's  sake  to  speak  no  more  of  that  matter,  for  they 
were  terribly  and  horribly  troubled  to  hear  him.^'  One  day  when 
he  was  to  preach  at  a  certain  place,  it  bef  el  that  a  peasant  prayed 
his  lord  to  let  him  go,  for  God's  sake,  to  hear  Brother  Berthold's 
sermon.  But  the  lord  answered  '  I  shall  go  to  the  sermon,  but 
thou  shalt  go  into  the  field  to  plough  with  the  oxen,'  as  it  is 
written  in  Ecclesiasticus  '  Send  him  to  work,  lest  he  be  idle.'  So 
when  the  peasant  one  day  at  high  dawn  had  begun  to  plough  in 
the  field,  wondrous  to  relate  !  he  heard  the  very  first  syllable  of 
Brother  Berthold's  sermon,  though  he  was  thirty  miles  away  at 
that  time.  So  he  loosed  the  oxen  forthwith  from  the  plough, 
that  they  might  eat,  and  he  himself  sat  down  to  hear  the  sermon. 
And  here  came  to  pass  three  most  memorable  miracles.  First, 
that  he  heard  and  understood  him,  though  he  was  so  far  away  as 
thirty  miles.  Secondly,  that  he  learnt  the  whole  sermon  and 
kept  it  by  heart.  Thirdly,  that  after  the  sermon  was  ended  he 
ploughed  as  much  as  he  was  wont  to  plough  on  other  days  of  un- 
interrupted work.  So  when  this  peasant  afterwards  asked  of  his 
lord  concerning  Brother  Berthold's  sermon,  and  he  could  not 
repeat  it,  the  peasant  did  so  word  for  word,  adding  how  he  had 
heard  and  learnt  it  in  the  field.     So  his  lord,  knowing  that  this 


34  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

was  a  miracle,  gave  the  peasant  full  liberty  to  go  and  hear  freely 
Brother  Berthoid's  preaching,  whatever  task-work  he  might  have 
to  do. 

Now  it  was  Brother  Berthoid's  custom  to  order  his  sermons 
which  he  intended  to  preach  now  in  one  city,  now  in  another,  at 
divers  times  and  in  divers  places,  that  the  people  who  flocked  to 
hear  him  might  not  lack  food.  It  befel  upon  a  time  that  a  certain 
noble  lady,  inflamed  with  great  and  fervent  desire  to  hear  him 
preaching,  had  followed  him  for  six  whole  years  from  city  to  city 
and  town  to  town,  with  a  few  companions  and  carrying  her  wealtii 
with  her  ;  yet  never  could  she  come  to  private  and  familiar  talk 
with  him.  But  when  the  six  years  were  past,  all  her  goods 
were  wasted  and  spent,  and  on  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  neither  she  nor  her  women  had  food  to  eat ; 
so  she  went  to  Brother  Berthold  and  told  him  all  her  tale  from 
beginning  to  end.  Brother  Berthold,  therefore,  hearing  this,  sent 
her  to  a  certain  banker,  who  was  held  the  richest  of  all  in  that 
city,  bidding  her  tell  him  in  his  name,  to  give  her  for  her  food 
and  charges  as  many  moneys  as  the  worth  of  one  single  day  of 
that  Indulgence  for  which  she  had  followed  the  Brother  these 
six  years. ^*  The  banker  hearing  this,  smiled  and  said,  '  And  how 
can  1  know  the  worth  of  the  Indulgence  for  one  day  whereon 
you  have  followed  Brother  Berthold  ?  '  And  she,  '  The  man  of 
God  bade  me  tell  you  to  lay  your  moneys  in  one  scale  of  the 
balance,  and  I  will  breathe  into  the  other  scale,  and  by  this  sign 
ye  may  know  the  worth  of  my  Indulgence.'  Then  he  poured  in 
his  moneys  abundantly  and  filled  the  scale  of  the  balance ;  but 
she  breathed  into  the  other  scale,  and  forthwith  it  was  weighed 
down,  and  the  moneys  kicked  the  beam  as  suddenly  as  if  they 
had  been  changed  to  the  lightness  of  feathers.  And  the  banker 
seeing  this  was  astonished  above  measure  ;  and  again  and  again 
he  heaped  moneys  upon  his  side  of  the  balance  ;  yet  not  even  so 
could  he  outweigh  the  lady's  breath ;  for  the  Holy  Ghost  lent 
such  weight  thereto  that  the  scale  whereon  she  breathed  could  be 
counterbalanced  by  no  weight  of  moneys.  Wherefore  the 
banker,  seeing  this,  came  forthwith  to  Brother  Berthold  with  the 
lady  and  her  whole  company  of  women ;  and  they  told  him  in 
order  all  those  things  which  had  come  to  pass.  And  the  banker 
added,  '  I  am  ready  to  restore  all  my  ill-gotten  gains  and  to  dis- 
tribute my  own  goods  for  God's  sake  amongst  the  poor,  and  I 
desire  to  become  a  good  man ;  for  in  truth  I  have  to-day  seen 
marvellous  things.'  So  Brother  Berthold  bade  him  minister  the 
necessities'  of  life  abundantly  to  that  lady  by  reason  of  whom  he 
had  seen  this  marvel,  and  to  them  that  were  with  her.     This  he 


The  Great  Alleluia.  35 

fulfilled  readily  and  gladly  to  the  praise  of  our  Lord  »Tesus  Christ, 
to  whom  is  glory  and  honour  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen. 

Another  time,  as  Brother  Berthold  was  passing  at  eventide 
by  a  certain  road  with  a  lay-brother  his  comrade,  he  was  taken 
by  the  hired  ruffians  {assassinis)  of  a  certain  Castellan  and  brought 
to  his  castle  ;  where  all  that  night  he  was  kept  chained  and  in 
evil  plight.  (Now  this  Castellan  had  so  provoked  his  fellow- 
citizens  that  they  had  caused  a  picture  to  be  painted  in  the  Palazzo 
Communale  shewing  forth  his  punishment  if  ever  he  were  taken 
— that  is,  the  doom  of  hanging.)  And  on  the  morrow  at  dawn 
the  chief  executioner  came  to  the  Castellan  his  lord,  and  said, 
'  What  are  your  lordship's  commands  with  respect  to  those 
Brethren  who  were  brought  to  us  yesterday  ? '  He  answered, 
*  Away  with  them,'  which  was  as  much  as  to  say,  '  Slay  them  : ' 
for  that  was  the  custom  of  this  Castellan  and  his  ruffians,  that 
some  they  robbed  and  others  they  slew ;  and  others  again  they 
cast  into  the  castle  dungeons  until  they  should  redeem  themselves 
with  money  :  otherwise  they  must  needs  be  slain.  Now  Brother 
Berthold  slept :  but  the  lay  brother  his  comrade  was  awake  and 
said  his  Mattins  ;  and,  hearing  the  sentence  of  death  pronounced 
upon  them  by  the  Castellan  (for  there  was  but  a  party-wall 
between  them)  he  began  to  call  again  and  again  on  Brother 
Berthold.  The  Castellan  therefore,  hearing  the  name  of  Brother 
Berthold,  began  to  think  within  himself  that  this  might  well  be 
that  famous  preacher  of  whom  such  marvels  were  told ;  and 
forthwith  he  recalled  his  executioner  and  bade  him  do  the 
Brethren  no  harm,  but  bring  them  before  his  face.  When  there- 
fore they  came  before  him  he  enquired  what  might  be  their 
names  :  whereto  the  lay-brother  answered, '  My  name  is  such-and- 
such  :  but  my  comrade  here  is  Brother  Berthold,  that  renowned 
and  gracious  preacher,  through  whom  God  worketh  so  great 
marvels.'  The  Castellan  hearing  this  forthwith  cast  himself  down 
at  Brother  Berthold's  feet ;  and  having  embraced  and  kissed  him 
he  besought  for  God's  sake  that  he  might  hear  him  preach,  for 
he  had  long  time  desired  to  hear  the  word  of  salvation  from  his 
lips.  To  this  Brother  Berthold  consented  on  condition  that  he 
should  call  together  before  him  all  the  ruffians  whom  he  had  in 
his  castle,  that  they  also  might  hear  his  sermon  :  which  he  gladly 
promised.  When  therefore  the  lord  had  called  his  ruffians  to- 
gether and  Brother  Berthold  had  gone  aside  for  a  while  to  pray 
to  God,  then  came  his  comrade  and  said  to  him,  '  Know  now, 
Brother,  that  this  man  condemned  us  even  now  to  death :  there- 
fore if  ever  you  have  preached  well  of  the  pains  of  hell  and  the 
joys  of  Paradise,  you  need  now  all  your  skill.'     At  which  words 


36  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Brother  Berthold  betook  himself  wholly  to  prayer ;  and  then, 
retnrning  to  that  assembly,  he  spake  the  word  of  salvation  with 
such  exceeding  glory  that  all  were  moved  to  tears.     And  before 
his  departure  thence  he  confessed  them  all  of  their  sins,  and  bade 
them  depart  from  that  castle  and  restore  their  ill-gotten  gains 
and  continue  in  penance  all  the  days  of  their  life  :  '  and  so,'  said 
he,  *  shall  ye  come  to  everlasting  life.'     But  the  Castellan  fell 
down  at  his  feet,  and  besought  him  with  many  tears  that,  for  the 
love  of  God,  he  would  deign  to  receive  him  into  the  order  of  St. 
Francis  :  so  he  received  him,  hoping  that  the  Minister  General 
would  grant  him  this  grace.^^     Then  he  would  fain  have  followed 
Brother  Berthold  on  his  journey,  but  he  suffered  him  not,  for  the 
fury  of  the  people  whom  he  had  provoked  and  who  had  not  yet 
heard  of  his  conversion.     So  Berthold  went  on  his  way  into  the 
city,  and  the  people  were  gathered  together  to  hear  his  sermon 
on  the  shingles  of  a  river  bed  ;  the  pulpit  was  set  up  over  against 
the  gibbet  whereon  hung  the  bodies  of  thieves.     (Thou,  when 
thou  hearest  this,  picture  it  to  thyself  as  though  it  were  upon 
the  shingles  of  the  River  Reno  at  Bologna.^^)     So  the  aforesaid 
Castellan,  after  Brother  Berthold's  departure,  was  so  inflamed 
with   divine   love,   and    so   drawn  with  desire   of   hearing  the 
preacher  that  he  thought  no  more  of  all  the  evils  which  he  had 
wrought  to  that  city,  but  came  alone  to  the  place  of  preaching, 
where  he  was  forthwith  known,  and  taken,  and  led  straight  to  the 
gallows :  so  that  all  ran  after  him  crying  '  Let  him  be  hanged, 
and  die  a  felon's  death,  for  he  is  our  most  mortal  foe.'     Brother 
Berthold  therefore,  seeing  how  the  multitude  ran  together  and 
departed  from  his  sermon,  marvelled  greatly,  and  said  :  '  Never 
before  have  I  known  the  people  depart  from  me  until  my  sermon 
was  ended  and  the  blessing  given.'     And  one  of  those  who  re- 
mained answered,  'Father,  marvel  not,  for  that  Castellan  who 
was  our  mortal  foe,  is  taken,  and  men  lead  him  to  the  gallows.' 
Whereat  Brother  Berthold  trembled  greatly  and  said  with  sorrow, 
'  Know  ye  that  I  have  confessed  him  and  all  them  that  are  with 
him  ;  and  the  others  I  have  sent  away  to  do  penance,  and  him  I 
had  received  into  the  order  of  St.  Francis  :  he  was  come  now  to 
hear  my  sermon  :  let  us  all  hasten  therefore  to  loose  him.'     Yet 
though  they  made  all  haste  to  the  gallows,  they  found  that  he 
had   even  then  been  drawn  up,  and  had  given  up  the  ghost. 
Nevertheless,  at  Berthold's  bidding,  men  took  him  down,  and 
round  his  neck  they  found  a  paper  written  in  letters  of  gold  with 
these  words  following  :  '  Being  made  perfect  in  a  short  space,  he 
fulfilled  a  long  time :    for  his  soul  pleased  God  :  therefore  he 
hastened  to  bring  him  out  of  the  midst  of  iniquities.'     (Wisdom 


The  Great  Alleluia.  37 

iv,  13,  14).  Then  Brother  Berthold  sent  to  the  convent  of  Friars 
Minor  in  that  city,  that  the  Brethren  might  bring  a  cross  and  a 
bier  and  a  friar's  habit,  and  see  and  hear  what  marvels  God  had 
wrought.  And  when  they  came  he  expounded  to  them  all  the 
aforesaid  story,  and  they  brought  his  body  and  buried  it  honour- 
ably in  their  convent,  praising  the  Lord  who  worketh  such 
wonders." 

A  comparison  of  these  stories  in  Salimbene  with  Wadding 
(vol.  iv,  p.  345  foil.)  or  the  parallel  passages  in  xxiv  Gen.,  pp. 
238-9,  clearly  brings  out  the  good  friar's  superiority  to  the  general 
run  of  medieval  chroniclers.  Upon  one  of  these  stories  we  have, 
by  rare  good  fortune,  the  criticism  of  the  hero  himself.  A 
precious  fragment  printed  in  the  Analecta  Franciscana  (vol.  1, 
p.  417)  describes  how,  when  Berthold  came  to  France,  St.  Louis 
wished  to  see  and  speak  with  him.  "  And  addressing  him  in 
Latin,  he  added  :  '  Good  Brother,  I  know  but  little  of  the  Latin 
tongue.'  '  Speak  boldly,  my  Lord  King,'  answered  Brother 
Berthold,  '  for  it  is  no  shame  or  wrong  for  a  king  to  speak  false 
Latin.' "  The  writer  then  relates  how  the  King  of  Navarre, 
who  was  present  at  this  interview,  recounted  to  St.  Louis,  in  the 
preacher's  own  presence,  the  story  here  told  by  Salimbene  about 
the  peasant  who  heard  the  sennon  thirty  miles  off — or,  as  the 
king  more  modestly  put  it,  at  three  miles'  distance.  Berthold's 
reply  was  "  '  My  Lord,  believe  it  not  and  put  no  faith  in  tales  of 
this  sort  which  men  tell  of  me  as  though  they  were  miracles. 
For  this  I  believe  to  be  false,  nor  have  1  ever  heard  that  it  was 
true.  But  there  are  a  sort  of  men  who,  for  greed  of  filthy  lucre 
or  for  some  other  vain  cause,  follow  with  the  rest  of  the  multitude 
after  me,  and  invent  sometimes  such  stories,  which  they  tell  to 
the  rest.'     Whereat  both  kings  were  much  edified,  perceiving 

clearly  that  this  Brother loved  the  truth  better  than 

popular  favour  or  the  sound  of  empty  praise." 


Chapter  IV, 
G)nversion. 

"TDLESSED  be  God,"  wrote  Salimbene  at  the  end  of  the 
JL)  long  digression  into  which  he  had  been  tempted  on  the 
subject  of  Diotisalve's  witticisms :  "  blessed  be  God  who  hath 
brought  me  safe  to  the  end  of  this  matter  !  "  He  is  therefore 
conscious  of  his  failing,  and  will  no  doubt  hasten  back  to  his 
main  subject :  to  that  gi-eat  Alleluia  which  probablj  determined 

his  own  choice  of  a  career 

Nothing  lies  farther  from  his  thoughts  :  he  goes  on  in  the 
same  breath  with  a  fresh  digression,  smacking  still  less  of 
revivalism  than  the  first  (83).  "  There  lived  in  these  days  a 
canon  of  Cologne  named  Primas,  a  great  rogue  and  a  great 
buffoon,  and  a  most  excellent  and  ready  versifier  ;  who,  if  he  had 
given  his  heart  to  love  God,  would  have  been  mighty  in  divine 
learning,  and  most  profitable  to  the  Church  of  God."  Here 
follow  a  few  specimens  of  his  epigrams,  interesting  only  to  the 
student.  "  Moreover  he  was  once  accused  to  his  archbishop  of 
three  sins,  namely  of  incontinence  or  lechery,  of  dicing,  and  of 
tavern-haunting.  And  he  excused  himself  thus  in  verse."  Here 
Salimbene  quotes  at  length  the  witty  and  profligate  verses  so  well 
known  in  their  attribution  to  Walter  Map,  of  which  Green  gives 
a  spirited  extract  in  his  Short  History  (p.  116)  : — 

"  Die  I  roast,  but  let  me  die  drinking  in  an  inn  ! 

Hold  the  wine-cup  to  my  lips  sparkling  from  the  bin ! 

So,  when  angels  flutter  down  to  take  me  from  my  sin, 
'  Ah,  God  have  mercy  on  this  sot,'  the  cherubs  wUl  begin  ! " 

Professor  Michael  is  much  scandalized  by  the  impenitent  jovial- 
ity with  which  the  friar  quotes  in  extetuo^  on  so  slight  a  pretext, 
a  poem  which  could  scarcely  be  rendered  into  naked  English. 
But  Salimbene  only  followed  the  custom  of  his  time  ;  the  same 
poem,  with  a  collection  of  others  beyond  comparison  worse,  was 
kept  religiously  until  modern  times  in  the  great  monastery  of 
Benediktbeuern,  and  in  fact  nearly  all  the  ultra-Zolaesque  litera- 


Conversion.  39 

ture  of  the  middle  ages  (except  that  of  the  Fabliaux)  has  come 
down  to  us  through  Church  libraries.  Nor  is  there  the  least 
a  priori  reason  against  Salimbene  writing  such  things  to  Sister 
Agnes :  for  nuns  were  often  accustomed  to  hear  songs  of  un- 
becoming purport  sung  in  the  churches  during  the  Feast  of 
Fools,  and  not  infreqiiently  joined  themselves  in  the  songs  and 
the  dancing.* 

As  Diotisalve  and  Primas  drove  the  Alleluia  out  of  Salimbene's 
head,  so  did  like  worldly  vanities  banish  it  from  men's  hearts 
in  Northern  Italy  after  those  few  months  of  1233  were  past.  All 
such  religious  revivals  have  been  short-lived  in  direct  proportion 
to  the  suddenness  of  their  origin.  No  doubt  they  left  behind  in 
many  minds  some  real  leaven,  however  small,  of  true  religion : 
but  the  mass  swung  back  all  the  more  violently  into  their  old 
groove :  and  those  populations  which  had  suddenly  thrown 
away  their  swords  and  sworn  with  tears  an  eternal  peace,  were 
again  in  a  month  or  two  as  busy  as  ever  with  the  ancient  feuds. 
During  the  Alleluia  itself,  many  earnest  men  must  have  felt  the 
fear  expressed  on  a  similar  occasion  by  a  pious  chronicler  of  the 
fifteenth  century  :  "  Now  may  God  grant  that  this  be  peace 
indeed,  and  tranquillity  for  all  citizens  ;  whereof  I  doubt." 
Jacopo  da  Varagine,  author  of  the  Golden  Legend,  describes  a 
similar  religious  revival  and  pacification  at  which  he  himself  played 
a  prominent  part  in  1295  ;  yet,  since  nothing  is  pure  in  this  world, 
the  year  was  not  yet  out  before  the  Devil  inspired  the  citizens 
again  with  such  a  spirit  of  discord  that  there  were  several  days 
of  street  fighting,  in  which  a  church  was  burned  to  the  ground. 
In  the  year  after  the  great  Alleluia,  Salimbene  records,  without 
comment,  how  there  was  a  great  battle  in  the  plain  of  Cremona 
between  the  seven  principal  towns  of  Lombardy,  in  spite  of 
natural  calamities  in  which  they  might  well  have  seen  the  finger 
of  Providence.  For  (88)  "There  was  so  great  snow  and  frost 
throughout  the  month  of  January  that  the  vines  and  all  fruit- 
trees  were  frost-bitten.  And  beasts  of  the  forest  were  frozen  to 
death,  and  wolves  came  into  the  cities  by  night :  and  by  day 
many  were  taken  and  hanged  in  the  public  streets.  And  trees 
were  split  from  top  to  bottom  by  the  force  of  the  frost,  and 
many  lost  their  sap  altogether  and  were  dried  up."  The  next 
year  came  another  bitter  winter  and  greater  destruction  of 
vines  :  but  the  warm  weather  was  again  marked  by  the  usual 
civil  wars.  In  this  year  1235  .  .  .  the  men  of  Parma  and 
Cremona,  Piacenza  and  Pontremoli,  went  with  those  of  iModena 
to  dig  the  Scotenna  above  Bologna  ;  for  they  would  fain  have 
thrown  the  stream  against  Castelfranco  to  destroy  it.      And  no 


4©    .  From-St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

man  was  excused  from  the  labour ;  for  some  digged,  others 
carried  earth,  both  nobles  and  common  folk"  (92).  Salimbene 
more  than  once  speaks  of  the  month  of  May,  in  Old  Testament 
phrase,  as  "the  time  when  kings  go  forth  to  war."  "Every 
spring,"  as  Ruskin  put  it,  "  kindled  them  into  battle,  and  every 
autumn  was  red  with  their  blood."  The  worst  horrors  of  civil 
war  recorded  by  Salimbene  come  after  the  great  Alleluia  of 
1233. 

It  must  be  noted  also  to  what  an  extent  this,  like  most  other 
religious  movements  in  the  Middle  Ages,  came  from  the  people 
rather  than  from  the  hierarchy.     Brother  Benedict  of  the  Horn 
had   no   more   claim   to   Apostolical    Succession   than    General 
Booth, — or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  than  St.  Francis  when  he  first 
began  to  preach.     There  is  no  hint  that  either  of  them  had  at 
first  any  episcopal  licence  even  of  the  most  informal  kind,  any 
more  than  the  Blessed  Joachim  of  Fiore  and  St.  Catherine  of 
Siena,  and  Richard  RoUe  of  Hampole,  who  all  set  an  example  of 
lay  preaching.    No  doubt  the  practice  was  contrary  to  canon  law  : 
but  the  thing  was  constantly  done  ;  and,  so  long  as  the  preacher 
did  not  become  a  revolutionary,  it  seems  to  have  caused  neither 
scandal  nor  surprise.     Matthew  Paris  (ann.    1225)  describes  a 
wild  woman-preacher  of  this  sort,  not  with  contempt,  but  with 
warm  admiration.     The  canonization  of  saints,  in  the  same  way, 
almost   always   came   from   the   people   and   the  lower   classes. 
Nothing  is  more  false  than  to  suppose  that  the  medieval  Church 
was  disciplined  like  th'fe  present  Church  of   Rome.     It  was  as 
various  in  its  elements,  with  as  many  cross-currents  and  as  many 
conflicts  of  theory  with  practice,  as  modern  Anglicanism  ;  and 
much  which  seems  smooth  and  harmonious  to  us,  at  six  hundred 
years'  distance,  was  as  confusing  to  contemporaries  as  a  Fulham 
Round-Table    Conference.      Again,   the   oft-quoted   saying   of 
Macaulay,  that  Rome  has  always  been  far  more  adroit  than  Prot- 
estantism in  directing  enthusiasm,  is  true  (so  far  as  it  is  true  at 
all)  only  of  Rome  since  the  Reformation.     What  Darwin  took  at 
first  for  smooth  unbroken  grass-land  proved,  on  nearer  examina- 
tion, to  be  thick-set  with  tiny  self-sown  firs,  which  the    cattle 
regularly  cropped  as  they  grew.    Similarly,  that  which  some  love 
to  picture  as  the  harmonious  growth  of  one  great  body  through 
the  Middle  Ages  is  really  a  history  of  many  divergent  opinions 
violently  strangled  at  birth  ;  while  hundreds  more,  too  vigorous 
to  be  killed  by  the  adverse  surroundings,  and  elastic  enough  to 
take   something   of   the  outward   colour  of    their   enviroimient, 
grew  in  8j)ite  of   the  hierarchy  into  organisms  which,  in   their 
turn,  profoundly  modified  the  whole  constitution  of  the  Church. 


Conversion.  41 

If  the  medieval  theory  and  practice  of  persecution  had  still  been 
in  full  force  in  the  eighteenth  century  in  England,  nearly  all  the 
best  Wesleyans  would  have  chosen  to  remain  within  the  Church 
rather  than  to  shed  blood  in  revolt ;  and  the  rest  would  have 
keen  killed  off  like  wild  beasts.  The  present  unity  of  Roman- 
ism, so  far  as  it  exists,  is  due  less  to  tact  than  to  naked  force  ;  so 
that  in  the  Middle  Ages,  when  commimication  was  difficult  and 
discipline  of  any  kind  irregularly  enforced,  the  religious  world 
naturally  heaved  with  strange  and  widespread  fermentations.  It 
is  true  that  the  modern  Church  historian  generally  slurs  them 
over  :  yet  they  were  very  pressing  realities  at  the  time. 

Amid  these  wars,  Salimbene  records  one  very  dramatic  scene 
(88).  The  Bishop  of  Mantua,  whose  sister  was  afterwards  "  mea 
devota  " — i.e.,  one  of  Salimbene's  many  spiritual  daughters — was 
murdered  in  a  political  quarrel.  "  And  note  that  the  College  of 
Canons  and  Clergy  at  Mantua  sent  news  of  the  murder  to  the 
Pope's  court  by  a  special  envoy  of  exceeding  eloquence :  who, 
young  though  he  was,  spake  so  that  Pope  and  Cardinals  marvel- 
led to  hear  him.  And,  having  made  an  end  of  speaking,  he 
brought  forth  the  Bishop's  blood-stained  dalmatic,  wherein  he 
had  been  slain  in  the  Church  of  St.  Andrew  at  Mantua,  and 
spread  it  before  the  Pope,  saying  :  '  Behold,  Father,  and  see 
whether  it  be  thy  son's  coat  or  not.'  And  Pope  Gregory  IX, 
with  all  his  cardinals,  wept  at  the  sight  as  men  who  could  not  be 
comforted  ;  for  he  was  a  man  of  great  compassion  and  bowels  of 
mercy.  And  the  Avvocati  of  Mantua,  who  slew  this  their 
Bishop,  were  driven  forth  from  their  city  without  recall,  and  they 
wander  in  exile  even  to  this  present  day  :  in  order  that  perverse 
and  incorrigible  men  (of  whom  and  of  fools  the  number  is  infinite)* 
and  pestilent  men  who  ruin  cities,  may  all  know  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  fight  against  God.  Note  that  folk  say  commonly  in  Tus- 
cany— '  D^olimo  alevandhizo^  et  de  pioclo  apicadhizo  no  po  tohm 
ynudere: '  which  is,  being  interpreted,  '  A  man  hath  no  joy  of  a 
man  who  is  a  foreigner,  nor  of  a  louse  which  clingeth  :  '  that  is, 
thou  hast  no  solace  of  another  man's  louse  which  clingeth  to 
thee,  nor  of  a  stranger  man  whom  thou  cherishest.  Which  may 
be  seen  in  Frederick  II,  whom  the  Church  cherished  as  her 
ward,  and  who  afterwards  raised  his  heel  against  her  and  afflicted 
her  in  many  ways.  So  also  it  may  be  seen  in  the  Marquis  of 
Este  who  now  is,'  and  in  many  others."  After  which  Salim- 
bene loses  himself  in  a  long  sermon  on  martyrs,  from  Abel  and 
Zacharias  to  Beckct  ;  from  whose  legend  he  quotes  a  series  of 
absohitely  apocryphal  stories  relating  the  mii-aculous  torments 
amid  which  his  murderers  severally  expired.     Then  the  good 


42  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

friar  goes  on  with  his  common  s  tory  of  wars  and  bloodshed  :  for 
of  the  76  years  covered  by  the  Chronicle  proper,  only  21  are 
free  from  express  record  of  war  in  the  writer's  own  neighbour- 
hood, while  several  of  the  others  were  years  of  famine  or  pesti- 
lence. Salimbene,  as  he  played  about  the  streets  of  Parma,  saw 
the  heralds  of  the  mighty  host  that  Frederick  was  bringing  to 
crush  the  rebellious  cities  of  Lombardy,  "  an  elephant,  with 
many  dromedaries,  camels,  and  leopards,"  and  all  the  strange 
beasts  and  birds  that  the  great  Emperor  loved  to  have  about 
him  (92).  Two  years  later,  another  imperial  elephant  came 
through  Parma  armed  for  war,  with  a  great  tower  and  pennons 
on  its  back,  "  as  described  in  the  first  book  of  Maccabees  and  in 
the  book  of  Brother  Bartholomew  the  Englishman  "  (94).  From 
his  earliest  childhood  he  had  been  familiar  with  the  trophies  of 
the  bloody  fight  at  San  Cesario — a  number  of  mangonels  taken 
from  the  vanquished  Bolognese,  and  ranged  along  the  Baptistery 
and  the  west  front  of  the  Cathedral,  almost  under  the  windows 
of  his  father's  house  (60).  And  now  in  his  seventeenth  year 
the  sad  side  of  war  was  for  the  first  time  brought  vividly 
before  his  bodily  eyes.  The  Bolognese  in  their  turn  had 
destroyed  Castiglione,  a  fortress  of  friendly  Modena ;  and 
Parma  itself  was  threatened  (95 ).  "  Then  the  Advocate  of 
the  Commune  of  Parma  (who  was  a  man  of  Modena)  rode  on 
horseback,  followed  by  a  squire,  through  the  Borgo  di  Sta. 
Cristina,  crying  again  and  again  with  tears  in  his  voice,  '  Ye 
lords  of  Parma,  go  and  help  the  men  of  Modena,  your  friends 
and  brothers  ! '  And  hearing  his  words  my  bowels  yearned  for 
him  with  a  compassion  that  moved  me  even  to  tears.  For  1 
considered  how  Parma  was  stripped  of  men,  nor  were  any  left  in 
the  city  but  boys  and  girls,  youths  and  maidens,  old  men  and 
women ;  since  the  men  of  Parma,  with  the  hosts  of  many  other 
cities,  had  gone  in  the  Emperor's  service  against  Milan." 

In  the  next  year,  1238,  came  the  turning  point  of  Salimbene's 
life.  The  Alleluia  had  impressed  him  deeply  :  Gerard  of  Mod- 
ena, one  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  the  Order,  took  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  his  conversion  :  and  on  February  4th,  at  the  age 
of  sixteen  years  and  a  few  months,  he  slipped  away  from  his  father's 
home  and  was  admitted  that  same  evening  as  a  novice  among 
the  Franciscans  of  Parma.  Within  the  brief  space  of  three 
hundred  yards  he  had  passed  from  one  world  to  another.  A 
friend  of  his,  Alberto  Cremonella,  was  admitted  at  the  same 
time,  but  went  out  during  his  noviciate,  became  a  physician,  and 
later  on  entered  the  Cistercian  Order. 

Sixteen  years  may  seem  a  strangely  immature  age  at  which 


Conversion.  43 

to  renounce  the  world  for  life  ;  yet  very  many  joined  the  Friars 
at  an  earlier  age  than  this.  Conrad  of  Offida  and  John  of  La 
Vernia,  two  of  the  most  distinguished  Franciscans  of  the  first 
generation,  were  only  fourteen  and  thirteen  respectively  when 
they  joined  the  Order.  Salimbene's  contemporary,  Roger  Bacon, 
asserts  that  most  Friars  had  joined  before  they  were  of  age,  and 
that  in  all  countries  they  were  habitually  received  at  any  age 
between  ten  and  twenty  years.  Thousands  become  friars,  he 
says,  who  can  read  neither  their  grammar  nor  their  psalter. 
Bichard  de  Bury,  Bishop  of  Durham,  accused  the  friars  of 
attracting  boys  by  presents  of  apples  and  wine  ;  and  in  1313  the 
University  of  Oxford  passed  a  statute  forbidding  them  to  receive 
novices  below  eighteen  years  of  age.  The  crude  spirit  of  adven- 
ture which  prompts  a  modern  schoolboy  to  go  to  sea,  sometimes 
found  a  vent  six  hundreds  years  ago  in  an  equally  ill-regulated 
religious  enthusiasm.  Only  nine  years  before  Salimbene's  birth, 
Northern  Italy  had  witnessed  the  Boys'  Crusade,  which  originat- 
ed on  the  Rhine  and  swelled  to  a  troop  of  seven  thousand  youths 
and  children,  many  of  whom  were  of  noble  families,  and  who 
expected  to  cross  the  sea  dry-shod  from  Genoa  to  the  Holy  Land. 
The  Genoese,  scandalized  by  the  moral  disorders  which  reigned 
among  them,  and  judging  them  "  to  be  led  by  levity  rather  than 
by  necessity,"  closed  their  gates  upon  the  juvenile  pilgrims,  who 
were  dispersed  and  perished  miserably.  Salimbene  tells  the  story 
on  p.  30,  and  the  author  of  the  Golden  Legend  makes  the 
startling  assertion  that  the  fathers  of  the  well-born  boys  had  sent 
harlots  with  their  children.* 

Albert  and  Salimbene  had  chosen  their  time  well ;  for  Brother 
Elias,  the  powerful  Minister-General  of  the  Order,  was  at  that 
moment  passing  through  Parma  ;  and,  once  received  by  him  in 
person,  they  would  be  pretty  safe  from  all  outside  interference. 
They  found  the  great  man  on  a  bed  of  down  in  the  guesten-hall ; 
for  the  easy-chair  was  not  a  medieval  institution,  and  even  kings 
or  queens  would  receive  visitors  seated  on  their  beds.  Brother 
Elias  "  had  a  goodly  fire  before  him,  and  an  Armenian  cap  on  his 
head  :  nor  did  he  rise  or  move  from  his  place  when  the  Podesta 
entered  and  saluted  him,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes :  and  this 
was  held  to  be  great  churlishness  on  his  part,  since  God  Himself 
saith  in  Holy  Scripture,  '  Rise  up  before  the  hoary  head,  and 
honour  the  person  of  the  aged  man.'  "  After  all,  however,  such 
boorishness  was  natural  to  Brother  Elias,  who  in  his  youth  had 
been  glad  to  earn  a  scanty  living  by  sewing  mattresses  and  teach- 
ing little  boys  to  read  their  psalter.  Brother  Gerard  of  Modcna 
was  also  present :  and  at  his  prayer  the  young  Salimbene  was  re- 


44  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

ceived  into  the  Order.  The  Abbot  of  St.  John's  at  Parma  had 
sent  for  the  Brethren's  supper  a  peasant  loaded  with  capons 
hanging  before  and  behind  from  a  pole  over  his  shoulders  ;  the 
friars  took  the  boy  to  sup  in  the  infirmarj',  where  more  delicate 
fare  could  be  had  than  the  ordinary  Rule  permitted.  Here, 
"  though  I  had  supped  magnificently  in  my  father's  house,  they 
set  an  excellent  meal  before  me  again.*  But  in  course  of  time 
they  gave  me  cabbages,  which  I  must  needs  eat  all  the  days  of 
my  life  :  yet  in  the  world  I  had  never  eaten  cabbages — nay, 
I  abhorred  them  so  sore  that  1  had  never  even  eaten  the  flesh 
stewed  with  them.  So  afterward  I  remembered  that  proverb 
which  was  often  in  men's  mouths :  '  The  kite  said  to  the  chicken 
as  he  carried  him  off — '  You  may  squeak  now,  but  this  isn't  the 
worst.'*  And  again  I  thought  of  Job's  words,  '  The  things 
which  before  my  soul  would  not  touch,  now  through  anguish 
are  my  meats'"  (99).  Salimbene  kept  his  eyes  and  ears  open 
that  evening  :  for  he  was  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the  greatest 
men  in  Italy.  As  a  grown  man  he  was  far  from  approving 
Brother  Elias's  policy,  of  which  he  has  left  the  most  detailed 
criticism  now  extant.  (96  foil.)  This  most  thorny  question, 
however,  is  exhaustively  discussed  in  Lempp's  Frere  Elie  de 
Corfone,  and  Avell  summarized  by  Miss  Macdonell ;  so  I  shall 
quote  elsewhere  only  such  of  our  chronicler's  remarks  as  throw 
definite  light  upon  the  general  conditions  of  the  Order. 

Once  admitted,  he  Avas  sent  forthwith  to  Fano,  in  the  Mark  of 
Ancona,  some  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Parma.  Guido 
di  Adamo  was  a  man  of  influence,  and  only  too  likely  to  resent 
the  loss  of  his  son  and  heir  :  for  the  proselytizing  methods  of 
the  friars  constantly  caused  bitter  family  quarrels.  "  Greedy 
and  injurious  men  !  "  complains  an  Italian  dramatist  of  the  next 
century,  "  who  think  they  have  earned  heaven  when  they  have 
separated  a  son  from  his  father !  "  The  friars  in  their  turn, 
enforced  the  strictest  separation  from  all  friends  during  the  year 
of  the  noviciate.  A  s  St.  Bonaventura's  secretary  writes — "  To 
speak  with  outsiders,  whether  lay  folk  (even  such  as  serve  the 
Brethren)  or  Religious  of  any  Order,  is  absolutely  forbidden  to 
the  novices  except  in  the  presence  of  a  professed  friar,  who  shall 
hear  and  follow  all  the  words  spoken  on  either  side  ;  nor  may 
the  novices  without  special  licence  be  allowed  to  go  to  the  gate  or 
to  outsiders."^  How  necessary  was  this  rule  in  the  friars'  interest, 
Salimbene's  own  words  will  show.  (39.)  "  My  father  was  sore 
grieved  all  the  days  of  his  life  at  my  entrance  into  the  Order  of 
the  Friars  Minor,  nor  would  he  be  comforted,  since  he  had  now 
no  son  to  succeed  him.     Wherefore,  he  made  complaint  to  the 


Conversion.  45 

Emperor,  who  had  come  in  those  days  to  Parma,  that  the 
Brethren  Minor  had  robbed  him  of  his  son.  Then  the  Emperor 
wrote  to  Brother  Ellas,  Minister-General  of  the  Order,  saying 
that,  as  he  loved  his  favour,  he  should  hearken  to  him  and  give 
me  back  to  my  father.  Then  my  father  journeyed  to  Assisi, 
where  Brother  Elias  was,  and  laid  the  Emperor's  letter  in  the 
General's  hand,  whereof  the  first  wOrds  were  as  follows  :  To 
comfort  the  sighing  oj  our  trusty  and  well-beloved  Guido  di  Adamo, 
etc.  Brother  Illuminato,^  who  in  those  days  was  scribe  and 
secretary  to  Brother  Elias,  and  who  was  wont  to  write  in 
a  book,  apart  by  themselves,  all  the  fair  letters  which  were 
sent  by  princes  of  the  world  to  the  Minister-General,  showed 
me  that  letter,  when  in  process  of  time  I  dwelt  with  him  in  the 
convent  of  Siena.  Wherefore  Brother  Elias,  having  read  the 
Emperor's  letter,  wrote  forthwith  to  the  Brethren  of  the  convent 
of  Fano,  where  1  then  dwelt,  bidding  them,  if  I  were  willing,  to 
give  me  back  to  my  father  without  delay,  in  virtue  of  holy 
obedience ;  but  if  they  found  me  unwilling  to  return,  then- 
should  they  keep  me  as  the  apple  of  their  eye.  Whereupon 
many  knights  came  with  my  father  to  the  house  of  the  Brethren 
in  the  city  of  Fano,  to  see  the  issue  of  this  matter.  To  them  I 
was  made  a  gazing-stock ;  and  to  myself  a  cause  of  salvation. 
For  when  the  Brethren  and  the  laymen  had  assembled  in  the 
chapter-house,  and  many  words  had  been  bandied  to  and  fro,  my 
father  brought  forth  the  letter  of  the  Minister-General,  and 
showed  it  to  the  Brethren.  Whereupon  Brother  Jeremiah  the 
Custode,  having  read  it,  replied  to  ray  father,  '  My  Lord  Guido, 
we  have  compassion  for  your  grief,  and  are  ready  to  obey  the 
letters  of  our  father.  But  here  is  your  son :  he  is  of  age,  let 
him  speak  for  himself.  Enquire  ye  of  him  :  if  he  is  willing  to 
go  with  you,  let  him  go  in  God's  name.  But  if  not,  we  cannot 
do  him  violence,  that  he  should  go  with  you.'  My  father  asked 
therefore  whether  I  would  go  with  him,  or  not.  To  whom  I 
answered,  '  No ;  for  the  Lord  saith,  "  No  man,  putting  his  hand 
to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of 
God." '  And  my  father  said  to  me :  '  Thou  hast  no  care  then 
for  thine  own  father  and  mother,  who  are  afflicted  with  divers 
pains  for  thy  sake  ?  '  To  whom  I  made  answer,  '  No  care  have 
I  in  truth,  for  the  Lord  saith,  "  He  that  loveth  father  or  mother 
more  than  Me,  is  not  worthy  of  Me."  Thou,  therefore,  father, 
shouldst  have  a  care  for  Him,  Who  for  our  sake  hung  on  a  tree, 
that  He  might  give  us  eternal  life.  For  he  it  is  Who  saith, 
'  For  I  came  to  set  a  man  at  variance  against  his  father,'  etc., 
etc.  (Matt.  X.  35,  36,  32,  33).     And  the  Brethren  marvelled  and 


46  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

rejoiced  that  I  spake  thus  to  my  father.  Then  said  he  to 
the  Brethren,  '  Ye  have  bewitched  and  deceived  my  son,  lest 
he  should  obey  me.  I  will  complain  to  the  Emperor  again 
concerning  you,  and  to  the  Minister-General.  Yet  suffer  me 
to  speak  with  my  sou  secretly  and  apart ;  and  ye  shall  see 
that  he  will  follow  me  without  delay.'  So  the  Brethren  suffered 
me  to  speak  alone  with  my  father,  since  they  had  some  small 
confidence  in  me  because  of  my  words  that  1  had  even  now 
spoken.  Yet  they  listened  behind  the  partition  to  hear  what 
manner  of  talk  we  had :  for  they  quaked  as  a  rush  quakes  in  the 
water,  lest  my  father  by  his  blandishments  should  change  my 
purpose.  And  they  feared  not  only  for  the  salvation  of  my 
soul,  but  also  lest  my  departure  should  give  occasion  to  others 
not  to  enter   the   Order.     My  father,   therefore,   said   to  me  : 

*  Beloved  son,  put  no  faith  in  these  filthy  drivellers^  who  have 
deceived  thee,  but  come  with  me,  and  all  that  1  have  will  I  give 
unto  thee.'  And  I  answered  and  spake  to  my  father :  '  Hence, 
hence,  father  :  the  Wise  Man  saith  in  his  Proverbs,  in  the  third 
chapter,  "  Hinder  not  from  well-doing  him  who  hath  the  power  : 
if  thou  art  able,  do  good  thyself  also."  '  And  my  father  answered 
even  weeping,  and  said  to  me,  'What  then,  my  son,  can  I  say 
to  thy  mother,  who  mourueth  for  thee  night  and  day  ?  '  And 
I  spake  unto  him  :  '  Say  unto  her  for  my  part,  Thus  saith  thy 
son  :  "  When  my  father  and  mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord 
will  take  me  up." '  My  father,  hearing  all  this,  and  despairing 
of  my  return,  threw  himself  upon  the  earth  in  the  sight  of  the 
Brethren  and  the  layfolk  who  had  come  with  him,  and  cried,  '  I 
commit  thee  to  a  thousand  devils,  accursed  son,  together  with 
thy  brother  who  is  here  with  thee,  and  who  also  hath  helped 
to  deceive  thee.  My  curse  cleave  to  thee  through  all  eternity,  and 
send  thee  to  the  devils  of  hell ! '  And  so  he  departed,  troubled 
beyond  measure;  but  we  remained  in  great  consolation,  giving 
thanks  unto  God,  and  saying  to  Him,  '  Though  they  curse,  yet 
bless  Thou.  For  he  who  is  blessed  above  the  earth,  let  him  be 
blessed  in  God.  Amen.'  So  the  layfolk  departed,  much  edified 
at  my  constancy  :  and  the  Brethren  also  rejoiced  greatly  that 
the  Lord  had  wrought  manfully  through  me  His  little  child  ; 
and  they  knew  that  the  words  of  the  Lord  are  true.  Who  saith, 

*  Lay  it  up  therefore  in  your  hearts,  not  to  meditate  before  how 
you  shall  answer.  For  I  will  give  you  a  mouth  and  wisdom,  which 
all  your  adversaries  shall  not  be  able  to  resist  and  gainsay.'  In 
the  following  night  the  Blessed  Virgin  rewarded  me.  For 
methought  I  lay  prostrate  in  prayer  before  the  altar,  as  is  the 
wont  of  the  Brethren,  when  they  arise  to  matins :  and  I  heard 


Conversion.  47 

the  voice  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  calling  unto  me.  And,  raising 
my  face,  I  saw  her  sitting  upon  the  altar,  in  that  place  where  the 
Host  and  the  chalice  are  set.  And  she  had  her  little  Child  in  her 
lap.  Whom  she  held  out  to  me,  saying,  '  Draw  thou  nigh  without 
fear,  and  kiss  my  Son  Whom  thou  hast  confessed  yesterday  before 
men.'  And  when  I  feared,  I  saw  that  the  Child  opened  His  arms 
gladly,  awaiting  my  coming.  Trusting,  therefore,  in  the  cheer- 
fulness and  innocence  of  the  Child,  no  less  than  in  this  so  liberal 
favour  of  His  mother,  I  came  forward  and  embraced  and  kissed 
Him  ;  and  His  gracious  mother  left  Him  to  me  for  a  long  space. 
And  since  I  could  not  take  ray  fill  of  Him,  at  length  the  Holy 
Virgin  blessed  me,  saying :  '  Depart,  beloved  son,  and  take  thy 
rest,  lest  the  Brethren  should  rise  to  matins,  and  find  thee  here 
with  us.'  I  obeyed,  and  the  vision  disappeared :  but  in  my 
heart  remained  so  great  sweetness  as  tongue  could  never  tell. 
In  very  truth  I  avow,  that  never  in  this  world  had  I  such  sweetness 
as  that.  And  then  I  knew  the  truth  of  that  scripture  which 
saith,  '  To  him  who  hath  tasted  of  the  spirit,  there  is  no  taste 
in  any  flesh.' 

"  At  that  time,  while  I  was  still  in  the  city  of  Fano,  I  saw  in  a 
dream  that  the  son  of  Thomas  degli  Armari,  of  the  city  of  Parma, 
slew  a  monk ;  and  I  told  the  dream  to  my  brother.  And  after 
a  few  days  there  came  through  the  city  of  Fano  Amizo  degli 
Amici,  going  into  Apulia  to  fetch  gold  from  thence ;  and  he 
came  unto  the  house  of  the  Brethren,  where  he  saw  us :  for  he 
was  our  acquaintance  and  friend  and  neighbour.  And  then, 
beginning  from  another  matter,  we  enquired  how  it  might  be 
with  Such-an-one  (now  his  name  was  Gerard  de'  Senzanesi), 
and  he  said  to  us  :  '  It  is  ill  with  him,  for  the  other  day  he  slew 
a  monk.'  Then  we  knew  that  at  times  dreams  are  true.  Further- 
more, at  that  time  also,  when  first  my  father  passed  through 
the  city  of  Fano,  journeying  towards  Assisi,  the  Brethren  hid 
me  many  days,  together  with  my  brother,  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  Martin  of  Fano,  who  was  a  Master  of  Laws,  and  his  palace 
was  hard  by  the  seaside.  And  at  times  he  would  come  to  us 
and  speak  to  us  of  God  and  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  his 
mother  ministered  unto  us.  Afterwards  he  entered  the  Order 
of  the  Friars  Preachers,  wherein  he  ended  his  life  with  all  praise. 
While  then  he  was  yet  in  that  Order,  he  was  chosen  Bishop  of  his 
own  city  :  but  the  Preachers  would  not  suffer  him  to  accept  it, 
for  they  were  not  willing  to  lose  him.  He  would  have  entered 
our  Order,  but  he  was  dissuaded  therefrom  by  Brother  Taddeo 
Buonconte,  who  was  himself  thereof.  For  our  Brethren  lay 
sore  upon  Taddeo  that  he  should  return  all  ill-gotten  gains,  if  he 


48  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

would  be  received  among  us  :  and  he  said  to  the  Lord  Martin, 

*  So  will  they  do  with  thee  also,  if  thou  enter  the  Order.'  So 
he  feared,  and  entered  the  Order  of  Preachers,  Avhieh  perchance 
was  better  for  him  and  for  us."  This  restitution  of  ill-gotten 
gains  was  a  very  sore  point  with  both  Orders. 

As  Salimbene  had  learnt  Latin  "  from  his  very  cradle,"  so 
now,  from  the  very  first  days  of  his  conversion,  he  set  himself  to 
study  theology.  Forty-six  years  afterwards,  on  the  anniversary 
of  his  entrance,  he  looks  back  with  pardonable  complacency 
over  this  long  term  of  study.  (277)  "From  my  very  earliest 
noviciate  at  Fano  in  the  March  of  Ancona,  I  learned  theology 
from  Brother  Umile  of  Milan,  who  had  studied  at  Bologna  under 
Brother  Aymo,  the  Englishman ;  Avhich  same  Aymo,  in  his  old 
age,  was  chosen  Minister-General  of  our  Order,  and  held  that 
office  three  years,  even  to  his  death.  And  in  the  first  year  of  my 
entrance  into  the  Order  I  studied  Isaiah  and  Matthew  as  Brother 
Umile  read  them  in  the  schools  :  and  I  have  not  ceased  since  then 
to  study  and  learn  in  the  schools.     And  as  the  .1  ews  said  to  Christ, 

*  Six  and  forty  years  was  this  temple  in  building,'  so  may  I  also 
say  :  for  it  is  46  years  to-day,  Saturday  the  Feast  of  St.  Gilbert, 
in  the  year  1284,  whereon  I  write  these  words,  since  I  entered 
the  Order  of  Friars  Minor.  And  I  have  not  ceased  to  study 
since  then  :  yet  not  even  so  have  I  come  to  the  wisdom  of  my 
ancestors." 


Chapter  V. 
A   Wicked   World. 


BUT  Salimbene's  stay  at  Fano  was  brief.  The  friary  lay 
outside  the  walls,  by  the  sea-shore,  and  he  was  haunted 
by  the  idea  that  his  father  had  hired  pirates  to  seize  and 
kidnap  him.  He  therefore  gladly  welcomed  a  message  from 
Brother  Elias,  who,  delighted  at  the  boy's  constancy  in  cleaving 
to  the  Order,  sent  him  word  that  he  might  choose  his  own  province. 
He  chose  Tuscany,  and  went  thither  after  a  brief  stay  at  Jesi. 
On  his  way,  he  changed  his  home  name  for  that  which  he  was 
to  bear  during  the  rest  of  his  life.  (38)  "  Now  as  I  went  to  dwell 
in  Tuscany,  and  passed  through  the  city  of  Castello,  there  1 
found  in  an  hermitage  a  certain  Brother  of  noble  birth,  ancient 
and  fulfilled  of  days  and  of  good  works,  who  had  four  sons, 
knights,  in  the  world.  This  was  the  last  Brother  whom  the 
blessed  Francis  robed  and  received  into  the  Order,  as  he  himself 
related  to  me.  He,  hearing  that  I  was  called  All-good,  was 
amazed,  and  said  to  me, '  Son,  there  is  none  good  but  One,  that  is, 
God.^  From  henceforth  be  thou  called  no  more  Ognibene  but 
Brother  Salimhene  (Leap-into-good),  for  thou  hast  well  leapt,  in 
that  thou  hast  entered  into  a  good  Order.'  And  I  rejoiced,  know- 
ing that  he  was  moved  with  a  right  spirit,  and  seeing  that  a  name 
was  laid  upon  me  by  so  holy  a  man.  Yet  had  I  not  the  name 
which  I  coveted :  for  I  would  fain  have  been  called  Dionysius, 
not  only  on  account  of  my  reverence  for  that  most  excellent 
doctor,  who  was  the  disciple  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  but  also  because 
on  the  Feast  of  St.  Dionysius  I  was  born  into  this  world.  And 
thus  it  was  that  I  saw  the  last  Brother  whom  the  blessed  Francis 
received  in  the  Order,  after  whom  he  received  and  robed  no  other. 
I  have  seen  also  the  first,  to  wit.  Brother  Bernard  of  Quintavalle, 
with  whom  I  dwelt  for  a  whole  winter  in  the  Convent  of  Siena. 
And  he  was  my  familiar  friend  ;  and  to  me  and  other  young  men 
he  would  recount  many  marvels  concerning  the  blessed  Francis ; 
and  much  good  have  1  heard  and  learnt  from  him." 


50  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

In  Tuscany,  Salimbene  dwelt  in  turn  in  the  convents  of  Lucca, 
Siena,  and  Pisa.  It  is  possible  that  he  was  twice  at  Pisa,  since 
he  had  there  an  adventure  which  seems  to  imply  that  he  was 
scarcely  yet  settled  in  the  Order.  At  any  rate  it  belongs  logically, 
if  not  chronologically,  to  this  place.  (44)  "  Now  at  Pisa  I  was 
yet  a  youth,  and  one  day  I  was  led  to  beg  for  bread  by  a  certain 
lay-brother,  filthy  and  vain  of  heart  (whom  in  process  of  time 
the  Brethren  drew  out  of  a  well  into  which  he  had  thrown  himself, 
in  a  fit  of  I  know  not  what  folly  or  despair.  And  a  few  days 
later,  he  disappeared  so  utterly  that  no  man  in  the  world  could 
find  him :  wherefore  the  Brethren  suspected  that  the  devil  had 
carried  him  off:  let  him  look  to  it !).  So  when  I  was  begging 
bread  with  him  in  the  city  of  Pisa,  we  came  upon  a  certain  court- 
yard, and  entered  it  together.  Therein  was  a  living  vine, 
overspreading  the  whole  space  above,  delightful  to  the  eye  with 
its  fresh  green,  and  inviting  us  to  rest  under  its  shade.  There 
also  were  many  leopards  and  other  beasts  from  beyond  the  seas, 
whereon  we  gazed  long  and  gladly,  as  men  love  to  see  strange 
and  fair  sights.  For  youths  and  maidens  were  there  in  the 
flower  of  their  age,  whose  rich  array  and  comely  features  caught 
our  eyes  with  manifold  delights,  and  drew  our  hearts  to  them. 
And  all  held  in  their  hands  viols  and  lutes  and  other  instruments 
of  music,  on  which  they  played  with  all  sweetness  of  harmony 
and  grace  of  motion.  There  was  no  tumult  among  them,  nor 
did  any  speak,  but  all  listened  in  silence.  And  their  song  was 
strange  and  fair  both  in  its  words  and  in  the  variety  and  melody 
of  its  air,  so  that  our  hearts  were  rejoiced  above  measure.  They 
spake  no  word  to  us,  nor  we  to  them,  and  they  ceased  not  to 
sing  and  to  play  while  we  stayed  there  :  for  we  lingered  long  in 
that  spot,  scarce  knowing  how  to  tear  ourselves  away.  I  know- 
not  (I  speak  the  truth  in  God),  how  we  met  with  so  fair  and 
glad  a  pageant,  for  we  had  never  seen  it  before,  nor  could  we  see 
any  such  hereafter.^  So  when  we  had  gone  forth  from  that  place, 
a  certain  man  met  me  whom  I  knew  not,  saying  that  he  was  of 
the  city  of  Parma  :  and  he  began  to  upbraid  and  rebuke  me 
bitterly  with  harsh  words  of  scorn,  saying  ;  '  Hence,  wretch, 
hence  I  Many  hired  servants  in  thy  father's  house  have  bread 
and  flesh  enough  and  to  spare,  and  thou  goest  from  door  to  door 
begging  from  those  who  lack  bread  of  their  own,  whereas  thou 
mightest  thyself  give  abundantly  to  many  poor  folk.  Thou 
should st  even  now  be  caracoling  through  the  streets  of  Parma 
on  thy  charger,  and  making  sad  folk  merry  with  tournaments, 
a  fair  sight  for  the  ladies,  and  a  solace  to  the  minstrels.  For 
thy  father  wasteth  away  with  grief,  and  thy  mother  well-nigh 


A  Wicked  World.  51 

despaireth  of  God  for  love  of  thee,  whom  she  may  no  longer  see.' 
To  whom  I  answered :  '  Hence,  wretch,  hence  thyself  I  For 
thou  savourest  not  the  things  which  are  of  God,  but  the  things 
which  are  of  fleshly  men  :  for  what  thou  sayest,  flesh  and  blood 
hath  revealed  it  to  thee,  not  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'* 
Hearing  this,  he  withdrew  in  confusion,  for  he  wist  not  what  to 
say.  So,  when  we  had  finished  our  round  [of  begging],  that 
evening  I  began  to  turn  and  ponder  in  my  mind  all  that  I  had 
seen  and  heard,  considering  within  myself  that  if  I  were  to  live 
fifty  years  in  the  Order,  begging  my  bread  in  this  fashion,  not 
only  would  the  journey  be  too  great  for  me  (I  Kings  xix,  7),  but 
also  shameful  toil  would  be  my  portion,  and  more  than  my 
strength  could  bear.  When,  therefore,  I  had  spent  almost  the 
whole  night  without  sleep,  pondering  these  things,  it  pleased 
God  that  a  brief  slumber  should  fall  upon  me,  wherein  He 
showed  me  a  vision  wondrous  fair,  which  brought  comfort  to 
my  soul,  and  mirth  and  sweetness  beyond  all  that  ear  hath 
heard.  And  then  I  knew  the  truth  of  that  saying  of  Eusebius, 
'  Needs  must  God's  help  come  when  man's  help  ceases : '  for  I 
seemed  in  my  dream  to  go  begging  bread  from  door  to  door, 
after  the  wont  of  the  Brethren  ;  and  I  went  through  the  quarter 
of  St.  Michael  of  Pisa,  in  the  direction  of  the  Visconti ;  because  in 
the  other  direction  the  merchants  of  Parma  had  their  lodging, 
which  the  Pisans  call  Fondaco ;  and  that  part  I  avoided  both 
for  shame's  sake,  since  I  was  not  yet  fully  strengthened  in  Christ, 
and  also  fearing  lest  1  might  chance  to  hear  words  from  my 
father  which  might  shake  my  heart.  For  ever  my  father  pursued 
me  to  the  day  of  his  death,  and  still  he  lay  in  wait  to  withdraw 
me  from  the  Order  of  St.  Francis ;  nor  was  he  ever  reconciled 
to  me,  but  persisted  still  in  his  hardness  of  heart.  So  as  I  went 
down  the  Borgo  San  Michele  towards  the  Arno,  suddenly  1  lifted 
my  eyes  and  saw  how  the  Son  of  God  came  from  one  of  the 
houses,  bearing  bread  and  putting  it  into  my  basket.  Likewise 
also  did  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  Joseph  the  child's  foster-father, 
to  whom  the  Blessed  Virgin  had  been  espoused.  And  so  they 
did  until  my  round  was  ended  and  my  basket  filled.  For  it  is 
the  custom  in  those  parts  to  cover  the  basket  over  with  a  cloth 
and  leave  it  below  ;  and  the  friar  goes  up  into  the  house  to  beg 
bread  and  bring  it  down  to  his  basket.  So  when  my  round  was 
ended  and  my  basket  filled,  the  Son  of  God  said  unto  me  :  *  I 

•  Salimbene  here,  as  usual,  reinforces  his  speech  with  several  other  texts — 
Rev.  iii,  17  ;  Jer.  ii,  5 ;  £cc.  i,  2 ;  Ps.  Ixxvii,  33 ;  and  Ixxii,  19 ;  Job  xxi,  12,  13  ; 
and  1  Cor.  ii,  14. 


52  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

am  thy  Saviour,  and  this  is  My  Mother,  and  the  third  is  Joseph 
who  was  called  My  father.  I  am  He  Who  for  the  salvation  of 
mankind   left  My  home   and  abandoned  Mine  inheritance   and 

fave  My  beloved  soul  into  the  hands  of  its  enemies  .  .  .' " 
Fnder  the  thin  veil  of  our  Lord's  speech  to  him,  the  good  friar 
here  launches  out  into  a  long  and  rambling  disquisition  on  the 
merits  of  voluntary  poverty  and  mendicancy :  a  theme  so 
absorbing  that  he  more  than  once  loses  sight  of  all  dramatic 
propriety.  Not  only  does  he  make  our  Lord  mangle  the  Bible 
text,  quote  freely  from  apocryphal  medieval  legends,  and  cite  the 
tradition  recorded  by  "  I'ietro  Mangiadore  "  that  the  widow  of 
2  Kings  IV  had  been  the  wife  of  the  prophet  Obadiah,  but  more 
than  once  we  find  Him  inadvertently  speaking  of  God  in  the 
third  person.'  There  are,  however,  one  or  two  points  of  interest 
in  this  wilderness  of  incoherent  texts  and  old  wives'  tales.  Salim- 
bene,  who  (as  he  tells  us  elsewhere)  had  at  least  one  Jewish  friend, 
gives  us  an  interesting  glimpse  of  thirteenth  century  apologetics. 
"  Moreover  in  my  vision  I  spake  again  to  the  Lord  Christ,  saying  : 
'  Lord,  the  Jews  who  live  among  us  Christians  learn  our  grammar 
and  Latin  letters,  not  that  they  may  love  Thee  and  believe  in 
Thee,  but  that  they  may  carp  at  Thee  and  insult  us  Christians 
who  adore  the  crucifix  ;  and  they  cite  that  scripture  of  Esaias, 
"They  have  no  knowledge  that  set  up  the  wood  of  their  graven 
work,  and  pray  unto  a  god  that  cannot  save."  '  "  He  represents 
the  Jews,  in  fact,  as  objecting  the  texts  which  a  modern  Jew 
might  quote ;  while  he  himself  meets  their  objections  with 
arguments  which  no  modern  apologist  would  dare  to  use.  Indeed, 
his  wordy  and  futile  apologia  illustrates  admirably  a  well- 
known  anecdote  of  St.  Louis.  "  The  holy  king  related  to  me  " 
(writes  Joinville,  x.  51)  "that  there  was  a  great  disputation 
between  clergy  and  Jews  at  the  Abbey  of  Cluny.  Now  a  knight 
was  present  to  whom  the  Abbot  had  given  bread  for  God's  sake  ; 
and  he  prayed  the  Abbot  to  let  him  say  the  first  word,  which 
with  some  pain  he  granted.  Then  the  knight  raised  himself  on 
his  crutch,  and  bade  them  go  fetch  the  greatest  clerk  and  chief 
rabbi  of  the  Jews :  which  was  done.  Whereupon  the  knight 
questioned  him :  '  Master,'  said  he,  '  I  ask  you  if  you  believe 
that  the  Virgin  Mary,  who  bare  God  in  her  womb  and  in  her 
arms,  was  a  virgin  mother,  and  the  Mother  of  God  ?  '  And  the 
Jew  answered  that  of  all  this  he  believed  naught.  Then  answered 
the  knight  that  he  had  wrought  great  folly,  in  that  he  believed 
not  and  loved  her  not,  and  yet  was  come  into  her  minster  and 
her  house.  '  And  of  a  truth,'  said  the  knight,  'you  shall  pay  it 
dear.'     With  that  he  lifted  his  crutch  and  smote  the  Jew  under 


A  Wicked  World.  53 

the  ear  and  felled  him  to  earth.  And  the  Jews  turned  to  flight 
and  bare  off  their  wounded  rabbi ;  and  thus  was  the  disputation 
ended.  Then  came  the  Abbot  to  the  knight  and  said  that  he 
had  wrought  great  f  oil  j.  But  he  said  that  the  Abbot  had  wrought 
more  folly  to  ordain  such  a  disputation  :  '  For  here,'  he  said, 
'  are  many  good  Christians  present  who,  or  ever  the  dispute  had 
been  ended,  would  have  departed  in  unbelief,  for  they  would 
never  have  understood  the  Jews.'  '  So  say  I,'  added  the  king, 
'  that  none  should  dispute  with  them,  but  if  he  be  a  very  learned 
clerk.  The  layman,  when  he  hears  any  speak  ill  of  the  Christian 
faith,  should  defend  it,  not  with  words  but  with  the  sword,  which 
he  should  thrust  into  the  other's  belly  as  far  as  it  will  go.'  " 
The  story  is  all  the  more  instructive  because  St.  Louis  was,  in 
practice,  extremely  kind  to  the  Jews  in  comparison  with  most 
medieval  princes.  Another  medieval  practice  admirably  illus- 
trated by  these  pages  of  Salimbene's  is  the  wresting  of  Scripture 
to  prove  a  preconceived  theory,  by  distortion  of  its  plain  meaning, 
interpolation  of  words  or  phrases,  and  quotations  from  the  Gloss,* 
as  of  equal  authority  with  the  Bible  text.  These  time-hallowed 
liberties  in  the  interpretation  of  Scripture  go  far  to  explain  why 
medieval  religious  controversy,  even  among  Christians,  nearly 
alway  ended  in  an  appeal  to  physical  force.  So  long  as  a  word 
and  a  blow  was  looked  upon  as  the  most  cogent  religious  argument, 
men  seldom  attempted  either  to  understand  their  opponents' 
position  or  to  weigh  seriously  their  own  arguments.  And  so 
in  this  passage  our  good  friar  loses  himself  in  his  own  labyrinth 
of  texts,  and  at  last  confesses  that  most  of  this  elaborate  dialogue 
has  been  a  mere  afterthought, — a  "  story  with  a  purpose." 
It  was  written,  he  tells  us,  to  confute  Guillaume  de  St.  Amour 
and  other  wicked  people  who,  seeing  how  far  the  friars  had 
already  drifted  from  the  Rule  of  St.  Francis,  accused  them  of 
being  the  "  ungodly  men  "  of  1  Tim.  iii.  5-7  and  iv.  3,  come  as 
heralds  of  the  last  and  worst  age  of  the  world.  There  was, 
however,  enough  tenth  in  the  first  portion  of  the  vision  to  support 
Salimbene  himself  (53).  "  Wherefore,  after  this  vision  aforesaid, 
I  had  such  comfort  in  Christ,  that  when  jongleurs  or  minstrels 
came  at  my  father's  bidding  to  steal  my  heart  from  God,  then 
I  cared  as  little  for  their  words  as  for  the  fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon. 
For  upon  a  day  one  came  to  me  and  said,  '  Your  father  salutes 
you  and  says  thus :  "  Your  mother  would  fain  see  you  one  day  ; 
after  which  she  would  willingly  die  on  the  morrow. ' '  Wherein 
he  thought  to  have  spoken  words  that  would  grieve  me  sore, 

*  i.e.,  the  traditional  notes. 


54  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

to  turn  my  heart  away  ;  but  I  answered  him  in  wrath  :  '  Depart 
from  me,  wretch  that  thou  art ;  for  I  will  hear  thee  no  more. 
My  father  is  an  Amorite  unto  me,  and  my  mother  a  daughter 
of  Heth.'     And  he  withdrew  in  confusion,  and  came  no  more." 

Yet,  manfully  as  Salinibene  might  resist  during  his  novicate 
all  temptations  to  apostasy  (for  so  the  Brethren  called  it,  however 
unjustly),  he  felt  a  natural  human  complacency  in  looking  back 
as  an  old  man  on  what  he  had  given  up.  Speaking  of  Cardinal 
Gerardo  Albo,  he  tells  us, "  He  was  born  in  the  village  of  Gainago, 
wherein  I,  Brother  Salimbene,  had  once  great  possessions  "  :  and 
he  repeats  the  same  phrase  a  second  time,  when  he  comes  again 
to  speak  of  the  great  Cardinal.  Similarly,  he  cannot  think 
without  indignation  of  the  miserable  price  at  which  his  father's 
house  was  sold  when  poor  Guido  was  gone,  leaving  his  wife  and 
children  dead  to  the  world  in  their  respective  convents.  "  The 
Lord  Jacopo  da  Enzola  bought  my  house  in  Parma  hard  by  the 
Baptistery  ;  and  he  had  it  almost  for  a  gift,  that  is,  for  a  sum  of 
small  worth  in  comparison  with  that  whereat  my  father  justly 
esteemed  it."  Finally,  he  dwells  with  pardonable  pride  on  the 
honours  to  which  he  might  have  attained,  under  certain  very 
possible  contingencies,  even  as  a  friar.  In  those,  as  in  later,  days, 
there  was  no  such  friend  for  a  cleric  as  a  Pope's  nephew  :  and 
Salimbene,  speaking  of  a  nephew  of  Pope  Innocent  IV,  continues  : 
(61)  "I  knew  him  well,  and  he  told  me  that  my  father  hoped  to 
procure  from  Pope  Innocent  my  egress  from  the  Order ;  but 
he  was  prevented  by  death.  For  my  father,  dwelling  hard  by 
the  Cathedral  Church,  was  well  known  to  Pope  Innocent,  who 
had  been  a  canon  of  Parma  and  was  a  man  of  great  memory. 
Furthermore,  my  father  had  married  his  daughter  Maria  to  the 
Lord  Azzo,  who  was  akin  to  the  Lord  Guarino,  the  Pope's 
brother-in-law ;  wherefore  he  hoped,  what  with  the  Pope's 
nephews  and  what  with  his  own  familiar  knowledge  of  him,  that 
the  Pope  would  restore  me  to  my  home,  especially  since  my 
father  had  no  other  sons.  Which,  as  I  believe,  the  Pope  would 
never  have  done ;  but  perchance  to  solace  my  father  he  might 
have  given  me  a  Bishopric  or  some  other  dignity  :  for  he  was  a 
man  of  great  liberality." 

However,  for  good  or  for  evil,  our  chronicler  is  now  irrevocably 
rooted  in  his  cloister,  and  his  father  has  no  sons  left  to  him  in  the 
world.  The  two  last  males  of  his  house  have  definitely  exchanged 
all  their  earthly  possessions  for  a  heavenly.  (56)  "  I,  Brother 
Salimbene,  and  my  Brother  Guido  di  Adamo  destroyed  our 
house  in  all  hope  of  male  or  female  issue  by  entering  into  Religion, 
that  we  might  build  it  in  Heaven.     W  hich  may  He  grant  us  Who 


A  Wicked  World.  55 

liveth  and  reigneth  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost  for 
ever  and  ever.  Amen."  One  needs,  of  course,  at  least  a  homoeo- 
pathic dose  of  Carljle's  "  stupidity  and  sound  digestion "  to 
live  at  peace  anywhere  ;  but  to  nine  friars  out  of  ten  the  gain 
of  the  celestial  inheritance  would  seem  as  certain  henceforth 
as  the  loss  of  the  terrestrial :  for  it  is  an  ever-recurring  common- 
place in  Franciscan  chronicles  that  the  Founder  had  begged 
and  obtained  a  sure  promise  of  salvation  for  all  his  sons  who  should 
remain  true  to  the  Order.  But,  if  we  would  fully  understand 
the  rest  of  Salimbene's  earthly  life,  we  must  pause  a  moment 
here  to  take  stock  of  the  old  world  he  had  left,  and  of  the  new 
world  into  which  he  had  so  intrepidly  leapt  at  the  age  of  sixteen 
years. 

One  would  be  tempted  to  say  that  "  the  world,"  in  the  thir- 
teenth century,  deserved  almost  all  the  evil  which  religious  men 
were  never  weary  of  speaking  about  it.  It  is  scarcely  possible 
to  exaggerate  the  blank  and  universal  pessimism,  so  far  as  this 
life  is  concerned,  which  breathes  from  literature  of  the  time. 
It  is  always  rash  to  assert  a  negative ;  yet  after  long  search  in 
likely  places,  I  have  found  only  one  contemporary  author  who 
speaks  of  his  own  brilliant  century  as  marking  a  real  advance, 
in  morals  and  religion,  on  the  past.  This  is  Cardinal  Jacques 
de  Vitry,  who  died  in  1244,  before  the  decline  of  the  friars  was 
too  obvious  to  be  blinked,  and  who  wrote  earlier  still,  while  St. 
Francis  was  alive.  Moreover,  even  his  testimonial  to  the  improve- 
ment during  his  own  days  must  be  taken  in  connection  with  his 
astounding  descriptions  of  the  moral  and  religious  squalor  which 
reigned  before  the  advent  of  Francis  and  Dominic.  W  hat  is  more, 
he  plainly  tells  us  that  he  looks  upon  even  this  new  Revival  as 
the  last  flicker  of  an  expiring  world.  The  Franciscan  Order, 
he  says,  "  has  revived  religion,  which  had  almost  died  out  in  the 
eventide  of  a  world  whose  sun  is  setting,  and  which  is  threatened 
by  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Perdition  :  in  order  that  it  might 
have  new  champions  against  the  perilous  days  of  Antichrist, 
fortifying  and  propping  up  the  Church."* 

Slender  as  were  Vitry's  hopes,  his  compeers  were  more  hopeless 
still.  Most  of  them,  however  pious  and  learned  and  brave, 
simply  ring  variations  on  the  theme  which  to  us  seems  so  incon- 
gruous on  the  lips  of  our  remote  ancestors :  "  The  world  is  very 
evil,  the  times  are  waxing  late  !  "  Read  the  great  poem  of  Bernard 
of  Morlaix  from  which  this  hymn  is  translated,  and  you  will  find 
page  after  page  of  bitter  and  desperate  lamentations  on  the 
incorrigible  iniquity  of  the  whole  world.  The  greatest  of  all 
medieval   historians,   Matthew   Paris,   had   no  doubt  that  the 


56  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

thirteenth  century  marked  the  last  stage  of  senile  decay.  Adam 
Marsh,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  strenuous  of  the  early 
Franciscans  in  England,  is  never  weary  of  alluding  to  "  these 
most  damnable  times,"  "  these  days  of  uttermost  perdition," 
in  which  "no  man  can  fail  to  see  plainly  that  Satan  is  either 
already  loosed  or  soon  to  be  loosed,  except  those  whom  (according 
to  the  Scripture)  the  Lord  hath  struck  with  madness  and  blind- 
ness." Grosseteste,  unsurpassed  in  learning  and  energy  among 
our  Bishops,  complained  in  a  sermon  before  the  Pope  at  Lyons 
that  (leaving  heretics  aside)  even  the  Catholic  population  was, 
as  a  body,  incorporate  with  the  Devil.  Innocent  III  writes  in 
a  Bull  of  "  the  corruption  of  this  world,  Avhich  is  hasting  to  old 
age."  St.  Francis,  at  the  end  of  his  life,  sighed  over  "  these  times 
of  superabundant  malice  and  iniquity. '  St.  Bonaventura, 
Vincent  of  Beauvais,  Humbert  de  Romans,  Gerard  de  Frachet, 
Thomas  of  Chantimpre,  Raimondo  da  Vigna  (to  name  only 
distinguished  friars  who  were  not  tempted  to  minimize  the  work 
of  their  Orders  towards  the  betterment  of  the  world),  echo  the 
same  despairing  cry.*  Dante  shares  their  belief  that  the  end  of 
the  world  is  at  hand,  and  leaves  but  few  seats  still  vacant  in 
his  Paradise  (xxx.  131 ;  cf.  Convivio  ii.  18.)  His  Ubertino  da 
Casale  gives  a  curious  reason  for  thinking  that  the  world  will  just 
last  his  own  time  :  viz,  Petrus  Comestor,*  in  his  commentary  on 
Gen.  ix.  13,  had  written  "  that  the  rainbow  will  not  appear  for 
30  or  40  years  before  the  Day  of  Doom  ;  but  the  rainbow  hath 
appeared  this  year  [1318]  .  .  .  wherefore  we  have  now  at  least 
30  or  40  years  before  Doomsday."® 

If  Dante  or  St.  Francis  could  come  back  to  life  for  a  single 
day,  their  first  and  greatest  surprise  would  probably  be  that  the 
world  still  exists  after  six  hundred  years,  far  younger  and  more 
hopeful  than  in  their  days ;  a  world  in  which  even  visionaries 
and  ascetics  look  rather  for  gradual  progress  than  for  any  sudden 
and  dramatic  appearance  of  Antichrist.  But  more  significant 
even  than  the  chorus  of  misery  and  despair  from  thirteenth- 
century  theologians  and  poets  is  the  deliberate  pessimism  of  a 
cool  and  far-sighted  genius  like  Roger  Bacon.  He  anticipated 
the  verdict  of  modern  criticism  on  the  boasted  philosophy  of  his 
contemporaries  :  that,  with  all  its  external  perfection,  it  rested 
upon  a  Bible  and  an  Aristotle  frequently  misunderstood,  and 
showed  a  fatal  neglect  of  the  mathematical  and  physical  sciences. 
But  in  the  domain  of  history  he  shared  the  ignorance  of  his 
time,  and  was  deprived  of  that  assurance  of  progress  in  the  past, 

*  The  Mangiadore  of  Par.  xii.  134. 


A  Wicked  World.  57 

which  is  one  of  the  mainsprings  of  future  progress  for  the  world. 
The  passage  is  so  significant  both  of  the  barbarous  atmosphere 
which  stifled  the  greatest  minds  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and 
of  the  limited  outlook  which  paralyzed  their  best  energies,  that 
I  must  give  a  full  summary  of  it  here.  It  was  written  in  127U 
two  whole  generations  after  St.  Francis  began  to  preach ;  and 
the  writer,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  himself  a  Franciscan. 

Wisdom,  he  says,  is  intimately  connected  with  morality ;  and 
although  there  has  been  a  vast  extension  of  learning  of  late — 
especially  through  the  Friars  during  the  last  forty  years — and, 
by  the  Devil's  wiles,  much  appearance  of  learning — yet  "  never 
was  so  much  ignorance,  so  much  error  as  now  .  .  .  For  more 
sins  reign  in  these  days  of  ours  than  in  any  past  age,  and  sin  is 
incompatible  with  wisdom.  Let  us  see  all  conditions  in  the 
world,  and  consider  them  diligently  everywhere :  we  shall  find 
boundless  corruption,  and  first  of  all  in  the  Head."  The  court 
of  Rome  is  given  up  to  pride,  avarice,  and  envy ;  "  lechery 
dishonours  the  whole  Court,  and  gluttony  is  lord  of  all."  Worse 
still  when,  as  lately  happened,  the  Cardinals'  quarrels  leave  the 
Holy  See  vacant  for  years.  "  If  then  this  is  done  in  the  Head, 
how  is  it  in  the  members  ?  See  the  prelates  :  how  they  hunt 
after  money  and  neglect  the  cure  of  souls.  ...  Let  us  consider 
the  Religious  Orders :  I  exclude  none  from  what  I  say.  See 
how  far  they  are  fallen,  one  and  all,  from  their  right  state  ;  and 
the  new  Orders  [of  Friars]  are  already  horribly  decayed  from 
their  first  dignity.  The  whole  clergy  is  intent  upon  pride> 
lechery,  and  avarice :  and  wheresoever  clerks  are  gathered 
together,  as  at  Paris  and  Oxford,  they  scandalize  the  whole 
laity  with  their  wars  and  quarrels  and  other  vices."  Princes, 
and  Barons  live  for  war  :  "  none  care  what  is  done,  or  how,  by 
hook  or  by  crook,  provided  only  that  each  can  fulfil  his  lust :  ^ 
for  they  are  slaves  to  sensuality.  The  people,  exasperated  by 
their  princes,  hate  them  and  break  faith  with  them  whenever 
they  can.  But  they  too,  corrupted  by  the  example  of  their 
betters,  are  daily  busy  with  oppression  or  fraud  or  gluttony  or 
lechery.  Yet  we  have  Baptism,  and  the  Revelation  of  Christ, 
and  the  Sacrament  of  the  Altar,  which  men  cannot  really  believe 
in  or  revere,  or  they  would  not  allow  themselves  to  be  corrupted 
by  so  many  errors.  With  all  these  advantages,  how  do  we  stand 
in  comparison  with  the  ancient  philosophers  ?  "  Their  lives, 
were  beyond  all  comparison  better  than  ours,  both  in  all  decency 
and  in  contempt  of  the  world,  with  all  its  delights  and  riches  and 
honours  ;  as  all  men  may  read  in  the  works  of  Aristotle,  Seneca, 
Tully,  Avicenna,  Alfarabius,  Plato,  Socrates,  and  others ;  and. 


58  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

so  it  was  that  they  attained  to  the  secrets  of  wisdom  and  found 
out  all  knowledge.  But  we  Christians  have  discovered  nothing 
worthy  of  these  philosophers,  nor  can  we  even  understand  their 
wisdom ;  which  ignorance  springs  from  this  cause,  that  our 
morals  are  worse  than  theirs."  Therefore  many  wise  men  be- 
lieve that  Antichrist  is  at  hand,  and  the  end  of  the  world.  We 
know,  however,  from  the  Bible,  that  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles 
must  first  enter  in,  and  the  I'emuant.of  Israel  be  turned  to  the 
Faith :  which  still  seems  far  from  accomplishment  :  for  along 
the  Baltic  we  have  vast  populations  of  pure  heathens,  to  whom 
the  word  of  God  has  never  been  preached,  though  they  are  nearer 
to  Paris  than  Rome  is.  It  may  be  that  still,  as  of  old,  the  long- 
suffering  God  will  withhold  his  Hand  awhile :  "  yet  since  the 
wickedness  of  men  is  now  fulfilled,  it  must  needs  be  that  some 
most  virtuous  Pope  and  most  virtuous  Emperor  should  rise  to 
purge  the  Church  with  the  double  sword  of  the  spirit  and  the 
flesh  :  or  else  that  such  purgation  take  place  through  Antichrist, 
or  thirdly  through  some  other  tribulation,  as  the  discord  of  Christ- 
ian princes,  or  the  Tartars  and  Saracens  and  other  kings  of  the 
East,  as  divers  scriptures  and  manifold  prophecies  tell  us.  For 
there  is  no  doubt  whatever  among  wise  men,  but  that  the  Church 
must  be  purged  :  yet  whether  in  the  first  fashion,  or  the  second,  or 
the  third,  they  are  not  agreed,  nor  is  there  any  certain  definition 
on  this  head."^ 

That  Bacon,  on  his  lonely  pinnacle  of  contemplation,  found 
the  world  of  the  thirteenth  century  almost  intolerable,  will  seem 
natural  enough  to  those  who  follow  the  revelations  which  flow 
so  freely  even  from  Salimbene's  jovial  pen.  It  is  less  natural,  at 
first  sight,  that  he  should  have  done  his  own  age  the  injustice  of 
placing  it  on  a  far  lower  moral  level  than  the  Rome  of  Seneca 
or  the  Greece  of  Aristotle.  But  the  cause  is  very  simple ;  he 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  inner  life  of  ordinary  Greece  and 
Rome  :  he  had  only  spent  long  years  in  studying  the  religious 
and  philosophical  writings  of  their  greatest  men.  In  a  word,  he 
had  studied  Antiquity  as  Newman  studied  the  Middle  Ages  : 
and  this  false  ideal  of  the  past  disabled  him  from  making  the  best 
of  the  realities  among  which  God  had  placed  him.^ 

This  false  perspective,  however,  was  inevitable  in  the  thirteenth 
century.  Men  could  not  know  the  real  past ;  and  the  present 
seemed  bnly  a  chaos  of  conflicts  and  uncertainties.  A  broader 
view  of  history  might  have  taught  them  how  the  very  ferment 
of  their  own  age  was  big  with  a  glorious  future ;  but  such  a 
wider  view  was  impossible  in  those  days  of  few  and  untrust- 
worthy books.     So  they  saw  no  hope  in  this  world  ;  no  hope  but 


A  Wicked  World.  59 

in  a  Deus  ex  mackina.  Some  Good  Emperor  and  Good  Pope 
shortly  to  come,  or  else  Christ's  second  Advent  and  the  end  of  all 
things — that  was  the  heart's  cry  of  the  crowning  period  of  the 
Middle  Ages  !  Dante  shared  this  longing  for  a  Good  Emperor 
and  a  Good  Pope ;  but  he  lived  to  see  Henry  of  Luxemburg 
poisoned,  Boniface  VlIT  triumphant,  and  the  Babylonian  Captiv- 
ity of  Avignon.  This  expectation  of  a  Deus  ex  machina  seems  to 
die  out  towards  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  ;  undoubtedly 
the  Black  Death  made  men  take  more  senous  stock  of  the  real 
grounds  of  their  faith.  Gerson  spoke  of  the  world  in  which  he 
lived  with  all  Dante's  loathing  and  contempt,  but  his  hopes 
rested  on  a  General  Council  to  reform  the  otherwise  hopeless 
Church.^  Meanwhile  the  lay  element  increased  steadily  in  power  : 
its  influence  may  be  traced  in  the  growing  magnificence  of  church 
buildings,  furniture,  and  ritual.  Presently  powerful  laymen 
set  their  hands,  one  by  one,  to  assist  that  regeneration  which 
the  Church  by  herself  had  tried  in  vain  to  bring  about :  and 
then  came  the  Reformation,  with  its  slow  evolution  of  a  better 
world — a  world  which,  with  all  its  faults,  enjoys  such  a  combina- 
tion of  individual  liberty  and  public  order  as  would  have  seemed 
Utopian  to  the  most  hopeful  minds  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

If  there  had  been  nothing  else  in  those  days  to  render  modern 
liberty  and  order  impossible,  there  was  the  ingrained  habit  of 
civil  and  religious  war.  The  fanatical  craving  of  the  Middle 
Ages  for  an  outward  unity  fatally  frustrated  all  real  inward 
peace,  as  the  greedy  drinker  chokes  and  spills  in  his  own  despite. 
The  civil  wars  of  Salimbene's  Italy  were  not  worse  than  those 
of  Stephen's  England,  or  the  France  of  Charles  VI,  to  leave  less 
civilised  countries  out  of  the  question  :  and  Guibert  of  Nogent's 
autobiography  indicates  a  state  of  things  quite  as  bad  in  the 
North  of  France  during  St.  Bernard's  generation.  Again,  our 
good  friar  takes  no  cognizance  of  the  still  more  horrible  religious 
wars  against  the  Albigenses  and  Stedingers,  and  the  half -converted 
heathen  of  Prussia.  Yet,  omitting  all  those  touches  which  would 
add  so  much  deeper  a  gloom  to  any  comprehensive  picture  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  here  is  Salimbene's  description  of  what  went  on  as 
the  necessary  consequence  of  quarrels  between  Pope  and  Emperor, 
in  that  outer  world  upon  which  he  now  looked  out  in  comparative 
safety  from  under  his  friar's  cowl.  (190)  "  But  here,  that  you 
may  know  the  labyrinth  of  affairs,  I  must  not  omit  to  tell  how 
the  Church  party  in  Modena  was  driven  forth  from  the  city, 
while  the  I  mperial  party  held  it.  So  it  was  also  in  Keggio  ;  and 
so  also,  in  process  of  time,  in  Cremona.  Therefore  in  those  days 
was  most  cruel  war,  which  endured  many  yeai'S.      Men  could 


6o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

neither  plough,  nor  sow,  nor  reap,  nor  till  vineyards,  nor  gather 
the  vintage,  nor  dwell  in  the  villages :  more  especially  in  the 
districts  of  Parma  and  Reggio  and  Modena  and  Cremona.  Never- 
theless, hard  by  the  town  walls,  men  tilled  the  fields  under  guard 
of  the  city  militia,  who  were  mustered  quarter  by  quarter 
according  to  the  number  of  the  gates.  Armed  soldiers  thus 
guarded  the  peasants  at  their  work  all  day  long  :  for  so  it  must 
needs  be,  by  reason  of  the  ruffians  and  bandits  and  robbers  who 
were  multiplied  beyond  measure.  For  they  would  take  men 
and  lead  them  to  their  dungeons,  to  be  ransomed  for  money  ; 
and  the  oxen  they  drove  off  to  devour  or  to  sell.  Such  as  would 
pay  no  ransom  they  hanged  up  by  the  feet  or  the  hands,  and 
tore  out  their  teeth,  and  extorted  payment  by  laying  toads  in 
their  mouths,  which  was  more  bitter  and  loathsome  than  any 
death.  For  these  men  were  more  cruel  than  devils,  and  one 
wayfarer  dreaded  to  meet  another  by  the  way  as  he  would  have 
dreaded  to  meet  the  foul  fiend.  For  each  ever  suspected  that 
the  other  would  take  and  lead  him  off  to  prison,  that '  the  ransom 
of  a  man's  life  might  be  his  riches.'  And  the  land  was  made 
desert,  so  that  there  was  neither  husbandman  nor  wayfarer. 
For  in  the  days  of  Frederick,  and  specially  from  the  time  when 
he  was  deposed  from  the  Empire  [by  the  Pope],  and  when  Parma 
rebelled  and  lifted  her  head  against  him,  '  the  paths  rested,  and 
they  that  went  by  them  walked  through  bye-ways.'  And  evils 
were  multiplied  on  the  earth  ;  and  the  wild  beasts  and  fowls 
multiplied  and  increased  beyond  all  measure, — pheasants  and 
partridges  and  quails,  hares  and  roebucks,  fallow  deer  and 
buffaloes  and  wild  swine  and  ravening  wolves.  For  they  found 
no  beasts  in  the  villages  to  devour  according  to  their  wont : 
neither  sheep  nor  lambs,  for  the  villages  were  burned  with  fire. 
Wherefore  the  wolves  gathered  together  in  mighty  multitudes 
round  the  city  moats,  howling  dismally  for  exceeding  anguish 
of  hunger  ;  and  they  crept  into  the  cities  by  night  and  devoured 
men  and  women  and  children  who  slept  under  the  porticoes  or 
in  waggons.  Nay,  at  times  they  would  even  break  through  the 
house-walls  and  strangle  the  children  in  their  cradles.^*'  No 
man  could  believe,  but  if  he  had  seen  it  as  I  have,  the  horrible 
deeds  that  were  done  in  those  days,  both  by  men  and  by  divers 
beasts.  For  the  foxes  multiplied  so  exceedingly  that  two  of 
them  even  climbed  one  Lenten-tide  to  the  roof  of  our  infirmary 
at  Faenza,  to  take  two  hens  which  were  perched  under  the  roof- 
tree  :  and  one  of  them  we  took  in  that  same  convent,  as  I  saw 
with  mine  own  eyes.  For  this  curse  of  wars  invaded  and  preyed 
upon  and  destroyed  the  whole  of  Romagna  in  the  days  when  I 


A  wicked  World.  6i 

dwelt  there.  Moreover,  while  1  dwelt  at  Imola,  a  certain  layman 
told  me  how  he  had  taken  27  great  and  fair  cats  with  a  snare  in 
certain  villages  that  had  been  burnt,  and  had  sold  their  hides  to 
the  furriers  :  which  had  doubtless  been  house-cats  in  those 
villages  in  times  of  peace."  When  we  consider  that  the  moral 
disorders  of  the  time  were  almost  as  great  as  the  political 
disorders ;  and  that  the  lives  of  the  Saints  constantly  describe 
their  heroes  as  meeting  with  worse  religious  hindrances  in  their 
own  homes  than  they  would  be  likely  to  find  in  a  modern  Protes- 
tant country — then  we  shall  no  longer  wonder  that  so  many 
escaped  from  a  troubled  world  into  what  seemed  by  comparison 
the  peace  of  the  cloister. 


Chapter  VI, 

Cloister  Life. 

BUT  the  cloister  itself  was  only  half  a  refuge.  In  vain  did  each 
generation  try  afresh  to  fence  "  Religion  "  with  an  impene- 
trable wall,  for  within  a  few  years  "  the  World "  had  always 
crept  in  again.  Most  men  brought  with  them  into  the  cloister  a 
great  deal  of  the  barbarous  world  without ;  the  few  who  cast  off 
the  old  man  did  so  only  after  such  a  struggle  as  nearly  always  left 
its  life-long  shadow  on  the  mind.  1  have  pointed  out  elsewhere 
how  false  is  the  common  impression  that  "  Puritanism "  and 
"  Calvinism  "  were  born  with  the  Reformation.^  The  self-imposed 
gloom  of  religion — the  waste  and  neglect  of  God's  visible  gifts 
in  a  struggle  after  impossible  otherworldliness — the  sourness 
and  formalism  and  hypocrisy  which  are  the  constant  nemesis  of 
so  distorted  an  ideal,  meet  us  everywhere  in  the  13th  century, 
and  nowhere  more  inevitably  than  among  the  friars  of  St. 
Bouaventura's  school.  There  is,  I  believe,  no  feature  of 
Puritanism  (as  distinct  from  Protestanism  in  general)  which  had 
not  a  definite  place  in  the  ideals  of  the  Medieval  Saints.  The 
"  personal  assurance  of  salvation  "  which  Newman  mentions  as 
specially  characteristic  of  "  Calvinism  or  Methodism,"  was  in 
fact  specially  common  among  the  early  Friars.^  So  was  the 
dislike  of  church  ornaments  and  church  music  ;  high  officials  in 
the  Order  were  disgraced  for  permitting  a  painted  window  or  a 
painted  pulpit  in  their  churches;  and  even  in  the  17th  century 
there  were  many  who  believed  that  St.  Francis  had  forbidden 
music  altogether.  St.  Bernard  speaks  of  the  profusion  of  paint- 
ings and  carvings  in  monastic  churches  as  little  short  of  heathen- 
ism ;  and  he  argues  most  emphatically  that  the  highest  religion 
is  least  dependent  on  such  extraneous  aids  to  devotion.'  Multi- 
tudes of  beautiful  works  of  art  were  mutilated,  and  noble  buildings 
destroyed,  by  the  vandalism  of  the  very  ages  which  gave  them 
birth  ;  and  the  iconoclasm  of  the  reformers  was  simply  the  medieval 
spirit  of  destructiveness  working  under  particularly  favourable 
conditions.     Moreover,   the  selfish   view   of  salvation  which  is 


Cloister  Life.  6^ 

often  spoken  of  as  distinctively  Puritan — the  idea  of  the  Christian 
race  as  a  sort  of  jostle  for  heaven — was  particularlj  medieval, 
and  particularly  monastic.  It  is  true,  St.  Francis  did  much  to 
shake  the  idea  ;  but  it  was  soon  flourishing  again  in  his  own  Order  ; 
and  the  ideal  friar  of  St.  Bonaventura's  school  is  almost  as  deeply 
imbued  with  what  St.  Jerome  calls  "  holy  selfishness  "  as  the 
older  monks  themselves.  The  tenet  of  the  certain  damnation 
of  unbaptized  infants,  so  often  charged  against  Calvinism,  is 
maintained  imiversally,  T  believe,  by  orthodox  medieval  theolo- 
gicins.  St.  Bonaventura  (following  St.  Gregory,  and  in  company 
with  Aquinas,  Gerson,  and  numbers  of  others  almost  as  eminent) 
reckons  among  the  delights  of  the  blest  that  they  will  see  the 
damned  souls  writhing  below  them  in  hell.  One  anecdote  will  show 
how  little  the  early  Franciscans  realized  the  lesson  which  the 
modern  world  has  learnt  from  St.  Francis  and  from  others  who 
have  followed  in  his  steps — that  to  save  our  own  souls  we  not 
only  need  not,  but  almost  must  not,  avoid  our  fellow-men,  or 
break  off  the  ordinary  relations  of  life.  The  Blessed  Angela  of 
Foligno  was  the  spiritual  instructress  of  Dante's  Ubertino  da 
Casale  ;  she  is  singled  out  by  Canon  Knox-Little  for  special 
praise  among  the  Franciscan  saints.  On  her  conversion  to  God 
she  "  mourned  to  be  bound  by  obedience  to  a  husband,  by 
reverence  to  a  mother,  and  by  the  care  of  her  children,"  and 
prayed  earnestly  to  be  released  from  these  impediments.  Her 
prayer  was  heard,  and  "  soon  her  mother,  then  her  husband,  and 
presently  all  her  children  departed  this  life."  The  story  is  told 
with  admiration  by  one  Franciscan  chronicler  after  another, 
even  down  to  the  sober  Wadding  in  the  middle  of  the  17th  cen- 
tury. St.  Francis's  admirable  combination  of  cheerfulness  and 
religion  passed  to  but  few  of  his  disciples,  as  we  realise  at  once 
when  we  wander  afield  beyond  the  charmed  circle  of  the 
Fioretti  legends.  In  the  generations  between  St.  Francis  and 
Dante  there  were  merry  and  sociable  friars,  and  there  were 
deeply  religious  friars ;  but  from  a  very  early  period  the  merry 
and  the  serious  were  divided  into  almost  irreconcilable  parties 
within  the  Order. 

1  had  hoped  to  give  at  this  point  as  full  a  picture  as  possible  of 
inner  Franciscan  life  in  the  later  13th  century,  by  way  of  intro- 
ducing my  reader  to  Salimbene's  experiences,  but  this  would 
take  me  so  far  from  my  main  purpose  that  I  must  reserve  it  for 
another  time.  At  the  same  time  it  is  necessary  to  give  a  few 
details,  if  only  to  disabuse  the  reader  who  may  have  formed  his 
notions  of  ordinary  Franciscan  life  from  the  Fioretti  alone.  That 
immortal  book,  true  as  it  is  within  its  own  limits,  no  more  gives 


64  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

us  the  life  of  the  avei*age  friar  thau  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  shows 
us  the  average  country  parson  of  the  18th  century.  Many 
important  inferences  which  might  be  drawn  from  it  are  most 
directly  contradicted  by  St.  Bonaventura  (d.  1274),  by  other 
writers  of  his  school,  by  the  earliest  chronicles  of  the  Order,  and 
— most  incontrovertible  evidence  of  all — by  dry  official  documents. 
The  Fioretti  will  always  remain  an  inspiring  example  of  what 
some  men  have  done,  but  for  the  purposes  of  historical  compari- 
son the  main  question  is,  "  How  do  most  men  live  ?  "  ;  and  from 
this  the  Fioretti^  by  themselves,  would  often  lead  us  far  astray. 
Nowhere  within  so  small  a  compass  can  we  so  clearly  realize 
average  Franciscan  life  as  from  the  directions  to  novices  and 
older  brethren  compiled  by  St.  Bonaventura,  by  his  secretary 
Bernard  of  Besse,  and  by  his  contemporary  David  of  Augsburg. 
These  little  books  have  been  republished  in  a  cheap  form  by  the 
Franciscans  of  Quaracchi,  and  should  be  studied  by  all  who  wish 
to  understand  the  13tli  century  friar.*  But  the  reader  must  be 
prepared  for  things  imdreamt  of  in  M.  Sabatier's  St.  Francis, 
admirable  as  that  book  is  on  the  whole  as  a  picture  of  the  Order 
during  the  saint's  lifetime.  Nothing  is  more  remarkable  in 
religious  history  than  the  rapid  changes  in  Franciscan  ideals  and 
practice  within  a  very  few  years. 

The  manuals  of  St.  Bonaventura's  school — and  their  evidence 
is  entirely  borne  out  by  such  early  documents  as  were  composed 
without  the  poetic  preoccupations  which  moulded  the  Fioretti — 
show  a  conventual  ideal  almost  as  gloomy  as  that  of  earlier 
monasticism.  Of  the  Puritanism  I  have  already  spoken ;  the 
ideas  of  discipline  were  equally  formal  and  lifeless.  Novices  are 
bidden  not  to  thee  or  thou  their  seniors  in  the  Order.  To  carry 
flowers  or  a  staff,  to  twirl  the  end  of  one's  girdle-cord,  to  sit  with 
crossed  legs,  to  laugh,  to  sing  aloud,  are  all  unworthy  of  Francis- 
can decorum.  So  far  from  ever  talking  familiarly  with  a  woman, 
or  touching  her  hand,  the  friar  must  not  even  look  at  one  when 
he  can  help  it.  Warning  is  heaped  upon  warning  to  show  that 
spiritual  friendship  in  these  matters  is  even  more  dangerous  than 
ordinary  friendship ;  many  pillars  of  the  Order  have  fallen 
through  this.  The  friar  is  thus  cut  off  for  life  not  only  from  the 
help  of  women,  but  from  any  free  and  personal  influence  over 
them.*  Again,  to  carry  news  is  unfranciscan,  or  to  speak  of  con- 
tingent matters  without  some  such  qualification  as   D.V.  ;  or 

•  The  Italian  translation  of  Bernard  of  ptease's  book,  published  by  the  same 
community,  must,  however,  be  used  with  caution,  as  the  text  is  softened  down 
by  omissions  and  other  similar  changes,  to  avoid  shocking  the  modem  reader. 


Cloister  Life.  65 

to  say  How  d'ye  do  ^  to  people  iu  whose  health  you  have  no 
special  interest.  As  David  of  Augsburg  sums  it  up,  wherever 
the  friar  has  no  special  prospect  of  spiritual  profit,  he  is  to  look 
upon  worldly  folk  with  no  more  interest  "  than  if  they  were  so 
many  sheep." 

Of  course  the  average  friar  did  not  conform  to  all  these  rules. 
We  cannot  even  begin  to  understand  medieval  life  until  we 
realize  that  the  laws  and  regulations  of  those  days  represented 
only  pious  aspirations,  all  the  more  soaring  because  they  were 
so  little  expected  to  bear  fruit  in  fact.  No  doubt  the  average 
friar,  in  his  easy  sociability,  resembled  the  friar  of  Chaucer  and 
of  Shakespeare,  but  the  fact  remains  that  the  Constitutions  of 
his  Order,  and  the  byelaws  of  his  convent,  required  him  to  be 
quite  a  different  person.  Moreover  (literary  enjoyment  and 
dilettante  sentiment  apart),  we  may  well  be  glad  that  these  most 
picturesque  figures  of  the  past  are  no  longer  living  among  us  in 
their  primitive  shape.  Brother  Juniper  running  naked  in  our 
streets — or  St.  Francis  himself  ;  for  on  at  least  one  occasion  the 
earliest  authorities  expressly  deny  him  even  the  scanty  garments 
in  which  later  prudery  clokes  him — we  may  well  be  glad  to  keep 
such  children  of  nature  within  the  covers  of  old  books.  We 
revel  in  Jacopone  da  Todi's  eccentricities,  but  we  are  happy  to  live 
600  years  to  windward  of  him.  And,  in  this  respect,  the  sober 
prose  documents  are  in  complete  agreement  with  the  Fioretti : 
they  show  us  many  traces  not  only  of  the  old  unregenerate 
Adam,  but,  what  is  more,  of  the  1 3th  century  Adam,  only  dimly 
realizable  at  the  best  by  politer  readers  of  to-day.  The  direc- 
tions for  behaviour  in  refectory  and  in  church  are  startling  indeed, 
for  they  exemplify  something  more  than  that  "  morbid  craving 
for  an  indulgence  of  food  and  drink,  making  mockery  of  their 
long  fasts  and  abstinence,"  which  Mr.  McCabe  describes  as 
general  among  modem  friars.  St.  Francis  himself  had  noted  and 
legislated  against  this  gluttony,  and  the  complaints  continue 
through  St.  JBonaventura  and  others  down  to  Ubertino  da  Casale. 
"  Fall  not  upon  thy  meat  with  tooth  and  claw  like  a  famished 
dog,"  pleads  David  of  Augsburg  ;  and  St.  Bonaventura's  secretary 
enters  into  minuter  details.  "  Cleanliness  should  be  observed 
not  only  as  to  thine  own  and  thy  fellows'  food,  but  as  to  the  table 
also  wnereat  thou  eatest.  Beware,  in  the  name  of  cleanliness 
and  decency  alike,  of  plunging  into  dish,  cup,  or  bowl  that  which 
thou  hast  already  bitten  and  art  about  to  bite  again.  It  is  a 
foul  thing  to  mingle  the  leavings  of  thine  own  teeth  with  others' 
meat.  Never  grasp  the  cup  with  fingers  steeped  in  pottage  or 
other  food,  nor  plunge  thy  thumb  into  the  goblet,  nor  blow  upon 


66  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  drink  in  the  cup  or  upon  any  meat  whatsoever.  It  is  indecent 
for  a  man  to  plunge  his  fingers  into  the  pottage  and  fish  for 
gobbets  of  meat  or  potherbs  with  bare  hands  in  lieu  of  spoon, 
thus  (as  Hugh  of  St.  Victor  writes)  washing  his  hands  and  refresh- 
ing his  belly  with  one  and  the  same  broth. '  The  friar  is  further 
warned  not  "  to  cast  forth  upon  the  table  the  superfluity  of  his 
fish  or  other  meat,  to  crack  nuts  with  his  teeth  for  another  guest, 
to  cough  or  sneeze  without  turning  away  from  the  table,  to  .  .  ." 
but  the  rest  of  this  warning  must  be  left  to  the  decent  obscurity 
of  the  original.  It  is  sufficient  to  remind  the  reader  that  even 
sybaritic  worldlings  in  the  thirteenth  century  possessed  neither 
handkerchief  nor  fork,  and  that  their  most  elaborate  refinements 
of  manners  under  these  difficulties  will  scarcely  bear  description 
in  a  less  downright  age.  .  .  .  Again,  "the  cleanliness  of  the 
table  demands  that  the  cloth  should  by  no  means  be  fouled  through 
frequent  or  superfluous  wipings  of  thy  knife  or  thy  hands  ;  least 
of  all  should  it  be  submitted  to  purging  of  teeth.  For  it  is  a  base 
and  vile  thing  to  befoul  the  Brethren's  common  cloths  and  towels 
with  rubbing  of  thy  gums.  He  who  dishonoureth  the  common 
goods  offendeth  against  the  community."  It  is  only  fair  to  add 
that  many  of  these  rules  for  behaviour  are  adapted  from  those 
drawn  up  by  Dante's  Hugh  of  St.  Victor  for  his  fellow-monks ; 
and  that,  on  the  whole,  the  friars  were  apparently  just  one  shade 
more  civilized  at  table  than  the  members  of  a  great  Augustinian 
convent  a  century  earlier,  of  whom  Hugh  complains  that  many 
rushed  upon  their  meat  like  a  forlorn  hope  at  the  breaches  of  a 
besieged  city.  The  great  Dominican  General  Humbert  de 
Komans  makes  similar  complaints  of  his  brother-friars'  behaviour 
at  table.* 

But  even  more  significant  than  these  hints  on  table  manners 
are  the  indications  which  may  be  gathered  as  to  the  conduct  of 
divine  service.  St.  Bonaventura  twice  alludes  to  the  extreme 
length  of  the  services,  assuming  that  the  novice  in  confession 
will  have  to  accuse  himself  "  of  much  negligence  and  irreverence 
in  the  matter  of  thine  Hours,  for  thou  sayest  them  sleepily  and 
indevoutly  and  with  a  wandering  heart  and  imperfectly,  omitting 
at  times  whole  verses  and  syllables."  David  of  Augsburg  speaks 
of  the  common  temptation  to  melancholy  or  levity  in  the  friar's 
mind,  "whence  we  are  forced  to  attend  divine  service  with  a 
mind  that  struggles  against  it,  like  puppies  chained  to  a  post ; 
and  this  is  the  vice  of  accedia,  the  loathing  of  good.*  Many, 
even  among  Religious,  are  sick  of  this  disease,  and  few  overcome 

♦Cf.     Inf.  vii,  123. 


Cloister  Life,  67 

it."  Salimbene  bears  the  same  testimony  in  his  own  racy  style 
a  propos  of  the  changes  made  by  the  great  Innocent  III,  who 
(31)  "corrected  and  reformed  the  church  services,  adding  matter 
of  his  own  and  taking  away  some  that  others  had  composed ; 
yet  even  now  it  is  not  well  ordered,  as  many  would  have  it  and 
as  real  truth  requires.  For  there  are  many  superfluities  which 
beget  rather  weariness  than  devotion,  both  to  hearers  and  to 
officiants ;  as,  for  instance,  at  Prime  on  Sundays,  when  priests 
have  to  say  their  masses  and  the  people  await  them,  yet  there  is 
none  to  celebrate,  for  they  are  yet  busied  with  Prime.  So  also 
with  the  recitation  of  the  eighteen  psalms  at  Nocturns  on  Sunday 
before  the  Te  Dcum.  For  these  things  beget  sheer  weariness, 
not  only  in  summer,  when  we  are  harassed  by  fleas  and  the  nights 
are  short  and  the  heat  is  intense,  but  in  winter  also.  There  are 
yet  many  things  left  in  divine  service  which  might  be  changed 
for  the  better.  And  it  would  be  well  if  they  were  changed,  for 
they  are  full  of  uncouth  stuff,  though  not  every  man  can  see 
this."  Caesarius  of  Heisterbach,  again,  has  many  tales  of 
Brethren  who  slumber  in  church.  Within  the  walls  of  the 
sanctuary  his  saints  are  as  drowsy  as  his  sinners,  and,  while  the 
idle  Cistercian  is  dreaming  of  Hell,  the  industrious  Cistercian, 
no  less  oblivious  of  earthly  psalmody,  is  rapt  into  the  Seventh 
Heaven.  In  spite  of  the  theoretical  gravity  of  the  sin,  the  stern 
moralist  unbends  to  humour  in  writing  of  a  lapse  so  natural  and 
so  inevitable  in  practice.  "  A  certain  knight  of  Bonn  once  made 
his  Lenten  retreat  in  our  abbey.  After  that  he  had  returned  to 
his  home,  he  met  our  Abbot  one  day  and  said  to  him,  '  My  Lord 
Abbot,  sell  me  that  stone  which  lieth  by  such  and  such  a  column 
in  your  choir,  and  1  will  pay  whatsoever  price  thou  wilt.'  Our 
Abbot  asked,  '  What  need  hast  thou  thereof  ? '  'I  will  lay  it,' 
he  replied,  '  at  my  bed's  head,  for  it  hath  such  virtue  that  the 
wakeful  need  but  lay  his  head  thereon  and  forthwith  he  falleth 
asleep.'  .  .  .  Another  noble,  who  had  been  at  our  abbey  for  a 
similar  penitence,  is  reported  to  have  said  in  like  words,  '  the 
stones  of  the  Abbey  choir  are  softer  than  all  the  beds  of  my 
castle.' "  There  is  an  almost  equally  amusing  story  in  the 
Dominican  Vita  Fratrum  about  a  friar  who  was  haunted  all 
through  service  by  a  devil  offiering  to  his  lips  a  contraband  cheese- 
cake, "  such  as  the  Lombards  and  French  call  a  tart^  It  was  pre- 
cisely during  those  long,  monotonous  hours  that  a  man's  besetting 
sin  haunted  him  most  inexorably,  as  Nicholas  of  Clairvaux  re- 
minded his  Brethren.  "  The  great  patriarch  Abraham,"  he  adds, 
"  could  scarce  drive  away  these  unclean  fowls  from  his  sacrifice, 
and  who  are  we  to  presume  that  we  shall  put  them  to  flight  ? 


68  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Who  of  us  can  deny  that  he  hath  been  plunged,  if  not  altogether 
submerged,  in  this  river  ?  "  It  is  the  more  necessary  to  insist 
iipon  this  point,  because  of  the  false  sentiment  lavished  on  the 
monastic  ideal  by  modern  writers  who  would  not  touch  with  one 
of  their  fingers  the  burden  of  the  strict  monastic  Rule.  It  is  the 
merest  cant  to  expatiate  on  that  Rule  without  facing  the  fact 
that  few  ever  came  even  within  a  measurable  distance  of  strict 
conformity  to  it ;  while  far  more,  having  taken  the  vows  without 
full  understanding,  bore  afterwards  not  only  the  natural  weari- 
ness of  human  flesh  and  blood,  but  the  added  burden  of  a  system 
which  less  and  less  commended  itself  to  their  reason.^  Monks 
and  friars  were  men  like  ourselves,  who,  finding  themselves  pledged 
by  profession  to  an  impossible  theory  of  life,  struck  each  an 
average  depending  on  his  own  personal  equation,  varying  in 
separate  cases  from  the  extreme  of  self-denial  to  the  extreme  of 
self-indulgence,  but  in  the  main  following  the  ordinary  lines  of 
human  conduct.  Not  one  human  being  in  a  million  can  pray  in 
heart  for  seven  hours  a  day  ;  few  can  even  dream  of  doing  so,  and 
drowsiness  in  church  is  a  commonplace  of  medieval  monastic 
writers.  Of  the  saintly  and  ascetic  Joachim  of  Flora,  for 
instance,  his  enthusiastic  biographer  assures  us  that  he  slept  but 
little  at  any  time,  and  least  of  all  in  church.  It  is  the  same 
contrast  which  meets  us  everywhere  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Over- 
strained theories  bore  their  fruit  in  extreme  laxity  of  practice  ; 
and  good  men,  distressed  at  this  divergence,  could  imagine  no 
better  remedy  than  to  screw  the  theory  one  peg  higher.' 

If  outraged  nature  demanded  a  modicum  of  slumber  during 
service,  much  of  the  same  excuse  can  be  pleaded,  and  was  in  fact 
allowed  by  the  moralist,  for  irreverence.  The  extraordinary 
licence  of  behaviour  in  medieval  churches  was  the  necessary 
outcome  of  the  elaborate  medieval  ritual,  and  of  the  small  extent 
to  which  the  words  were  understood  even  by  the  average 
officiant.  Friars  are  warned  not  to  laugh  during  service,  or  make 
others  laugh,  or  pursue  their  studies,  or  walk  about,  or  cleanse 
lamps,  or  come  in  late,  or  go  out  before  the  end.  They  must  doif 
their  hoods  now  and  then  at  the  more  solemn  parts,  not  toss  their 
heads  or  stare  around  in  their  stalls  ;  "  It  is  blameworthy  .... 
to  busy  thyself  with  talk  while  the  office  of  the  Mass  is  being 
celebrated,  for  Canon  Law  forbiddeth  this  at  such  times  even  to 
the  secular  clergy."^  The  same  warning  was  needed  by  the 
layfolk  in  the  nave,  who  (as  Ubertino  complains)  were  always 
loafing  about  in  the  friars'  churches  "  rather  for  the  sake  of 
curiosity  and  gossip  than  for  spiritual  profit."  Care  must  be 
taken  to  guard  these  layfolk,  ignorant  of  the  different  steps 


Cloister  Life.  69 

of  the  Mass,  from  the  idolatry  of  adoring  prematurely  an 
unconsecrated  wafer.  Moreover,  an  officiating  friar  himself  would 
frequently  trip  in  his  reading,  to  the  irreverent  glee  of  self- 
righteous  Brethren,  who  scandalized  others  by  their  laughter  or 
comments.^ 

There  remains  one  more  point  to  be  noticed,  if  we  are  to  realize 
the  difference  between  Salimbene's  surroundings  and  our  own. 
Many  of  his  stories  and  allusions,  far  too  natural  then  to  need 
any  special  explanation  from  him,  will  seem  scarcely  credible 
in  our  age  to  those  who  have  not  yet  realized  facts  which  the 
13th  century  took  as  matters  of  course.  In  studying  medieval 
religious  manners,  we  come  to  a  point  at  which  it  is  difficult  to 
distinguish  irreverence  from  the  prevailing  coarseness  and 
uncleanliness  of  the  times.  The  familiarity  with  which  the 
people  treated  their  churches  had  something  pleasant  and  homely 
then,  as  it  has  in  modern  Italy.  The  absence  of  a  hard-and-fast 
line  between  behaviour  within  and  without  the  sacred  building 
is  in  many  ways  very  touching ;  yet,  in  a  rude  society,  this 
familiarity  had  great  inconveniences.  The  clergy  often  brought 
their  hawks  and  hounds  to  church  ;  and  similar  instances  are 
recorded  by  Salimbene.  For  instance,  when  the  Bishop  of 
Reggio  was  buried  in  his  own  cathedral,  it  was  quite  natural  for 
a  dog  to  be  present,  and  to  show  no  better  manners  than  a  modern 
Protestant  beast ;  nor  were  the  citizens  in  the  least  deterred  by 
reverence  for  the  holy  place  when  they  wished  to  desecrate  an 
unpopular  governor's  tomb  by  filthy  defilements.  It  is  natural, 
therefore,  that  the  Franciscan  precepts  for  behaviour  in  church 
should  resemble  the  counsels  for  table-manners.  "  While  a 
single  voice  is  reading  in  choir,  as  in  the  collects,  chapters,  or 
lessons,  thou  must  take  good  heed  to  make  no  notable  sound  of 
spitting  or  hawking,  until  the  end  of  a  period,  and  the  same  care 
must  be  taken  during  a  sermon  or  a  reading."  A  far  more 
detailed  warning  lower  down  proves  incontestably  that,  in  personal 
cleanliness  and  respect  for  the  church  floor,  the  Italian  of  the 
thirteenth  century  was  far  behind  even  the  Italian  of  to-day.  It 
was  the  same  elsewhere ;  in  Provence,  for  instance,  the  dainty 
and  aristocratic  l^'lamenca  is  described  as  gratifying  her  lover 
with  a  momentary  sight  of  her  mouth  as  she  lowered  her  wimple 
to  spit  in  the  church  porch.  And,  as  usual,  we  find  that  the 
neglect  of  cleanliness  is  accompanied  by  an  almost  corresponding 
bluntness  of  moral  feeling ;  the  warnings  on  this  score  point  to  a 
state  of  things  which  may  indeed  stagger  a  modern  reader.  The 
friar  is  bidden  to  observe  the  most  scrupulous  cleanliness  at  Mass ; 
the  server  must  "  never  blow  his  nose  on  the  priestly  garments. 


yo  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

especially  upon  the  chasuble,"  a  warning  which  is  repeated  in 
even  more  grisly  detail  lower  down  :  "  moreover,  he  who  ministers 
at  mass  must  so  keep  his  surplice  (if  he  have  one),  as  never  in 
any  degree  to  blow  his  nose  on  it,  nor  use  it  to  wipe  away  the 
sweat  from  his  face  or  any  other  part :  neither  let  him  expose  its 
sleeves  to  drag,  especially  in  the  dust,  over  wood,  stones,  or 
earth."  What  was  worse,  the  offenders  sometimes  made  a  merit 
of  their  offence.  "  Certain  careless  [friars^  ....  can  scarce 
keep  [the  long  sleeves  of  their  frocks],  which  have  frequently 
been  exposed  to  the  utmost  dirt,  away  from  their  fellows'  food, 
from  the  altar,  or  from  the  very  maniple  of  the  chalice.  Such, 
who  would  fain  please  [God]  by  their  very  filth,  brand  their 
more  careful  brethren  with  the  reproach  of  fastidiousness,  and 
strive  to  colour  their  own  vicious  negligence  with  the  show  of 
virtue."^**  We  may  here  read  between  the  lines  a  further,  and 
just,  cause  for  the  unpopularity  of  the  Spirituals,  with  their 
stern  insistence  upon  the  Saint's  sordid  example  in  dress,  and 
their  pride  in  wearing  garments  not  only  as  coarse  but  also  as 
old  as  possible.  Many  uncompromising  old  Spirituals  wore,  as 
others  complained,  frocks  that  had  shrunk  to  the  dimensions  of 
an  Eton  jacket,^^  and  one  such  garment  attained  to  a  certain 
historical  notoriety  in  the  Order.  Brother  Carlino  de'  Grimaldi, 
probably  a  scion  of  one  of  the  greatest  families  in  Genoa,  had 
washed  his  frock  (we  are  not  told  after  how  long  an  interval) 
and  had  spread  it  to  dry  in  the  sun.  Here  at  last  it  lay  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Brethren,  who,  having  probably  more  than  mere 
doctrinal  differences  to  avenge,  cut  it  into  small  pieces  which 
they  desecrated  with  medieval  ingenuity.^^  It  is  necessary  to 
face  this  subject,  since  there  is  no  other,  except  that  of  compul- 
sory celibacy,  which  illustrates  more  clearly  the  practical  weak- 
ness of  the  strict  Franciscan  Rule.  The  ideal  of  absolute  and 
uncompromising  poverty  was  in  fact  hopelessly  retrograde.  Even 
without  such  ascetic  exaggerations,  the  very  Rules  of  the  religious 
Orders  forbade  cleanliness  in  the  modern  sense.  Father  Taunton 
{Black  Monks  of  St.  Benedict,  i.  83)  does  indeed  take  some  pains 
to  combat  this  impression  ;  but  the  documents  to  which  he  refers 
flatly  contradict  his  assertions,  nor  have  I  been  successful  in 
eliciting  further  references  from  him.  Among  the  real  hardships 
of  a  strict  monk's  life,  this  would  have  been  the  most  intolerable, 
during  his  noviciate  at  least,  to  a  modern  Englishman.  It  some- 
times shocked  even  the  medieval  layman,  accustomed  as  he  was, 
in  the  highest  society,  to  many  of  the  conditions  of  slum  life. 
Caesarius  describes  the  conversion  of  a  knight  who  had  long 
wished  to  enter  the  cloister,  but  who  always  hung  back,  "  on  the 


Cloister  Life.  71 

cowardly  plea  that  he  feared  the  vermin  of  the  garments  (for 
our  woollen  clothing  harbours  much  vermin.)"  The  Abbot 
laughed  away  the  scruples  of  the  valiant  soldier  who  would  suffer 
such  tiny  creatures  to  scare  him  away  from  the  Kingdom  of 
God  ;  and  indeed,  once  admitted,  the  knight  was  soon  sufficiently 
hardened  to  boast  that  "  even  though  all  the  vermin  of  the  monks 
should  fall  upon  my  single  body,  yet  should  they  not  bite  me 
away  from  the  Order."^'  Salimbene  speaks  jestingly  on  the  same 
topic,  quoting  (1285-336)  "those  verses  which  men  are  wont  to 
repeat : — 

'  Three  are  the  torments  that  rhyme — ex, 
PtUex  and  cidex  and  cimez. 
Mighty  to  leap  is  the  pulez, 
Swift  on  the  wing  is  the  culex ; 
But  the  cimex,  whom  no  fumigation  can  slay, 
Is  a  monster  more  terrible  even  than  they.'  "* 

Bernard  of  Besse  (p.  327)  bears  far  more  significant  Avitness 
in  solemn  prose.  The  strict  rule  of  poverty  would  have 
condemned  the  uncompromising  Franciscan  to  something  less 
than  ordinary  monastic  cleanliness,  as  it  would  have  condemned 
him  also  to  ignorance.^*  In  short,  all  the  early  writings  on  the 
discipline  of  the  Order,  as  well  as  the  early  collections  of  legends, 
point  to  the  impossibility  of  carrying  out  the  Franciscan  ideal 
on  a  large  scale,  and  under  the  conditions  which  the  age  demanded. 
As  the  strict  rule  of  poverty  would  have  condemned  the  Order 
to  barbarism,  so  the  vow  of  chastity  could  not  in  those  days  be 
kept  with  anything  like  the  strictness  which  modern  society 
demands  from  a  religious  body,  by  any  but  an  order  of  virtual 
hermits.  The  ascetic  writers  of  the  time  assure  us,  over  and 
over  again,  that  this  virtue  needed  a  perpetual  consciousness  of 
living  in  a  state  of  siege,  a  deliberate  aloofness  from  one  half  of 
mankind,  which  was  patently  impossible  for  any  missionary  body 
on  the  enormous  scale  of  the  Franciscan  Order.  What  the  early 
disciplinarians  prophesy  as  imminent,  later  writers  complain  of 
as  an  accomplished  fact.  Gower  and  the  author  of  Piers  Plowman^ 
though  they  both  hated  heretics  as  heartily  as  Dante  did,  asserted 
roundly  that  the  friar  was  a  real  danger  to  family  life.  Benvenuto, 
in  his  comment  on  Par.  xii.  144,  specifies  lubricity  as  one  of 
the  vices  of  the  friar  of  his  day,  and  Sacchetti  speaks  even  more 
strongly.     Again,    Busch    in    the    15th    century    names    "  the 

*  In  X  finita  tria  sunt  animalia  dira : 
Sunt  pulices  fortes,  cimices  culicumque  cohortes  ; 
Sed  pulices  saltu  fugiunt,  culicesque  volatu, 
Et  cimices  pravi  nequeunt  fcetore  necari 


72  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

unreformed  friars  "  as  those  who  most  infected  other  religious 
Orders  with  the  seeds  of  decay."  Like  the  monks,  they  had  often 
pledged  themselves  as  boys  to  that  which  no  boy  can  understand, 
while  their  manner  of  life  exposed  them  to  far  more  temptations 
than  the  average  monk.  It  is  impossible  to  do  more  than  allude 
to  this  subject  here,  in  the  text ;  but  I  take  the  opportunity  of 
pointing  out  that  I  have  more  than  once  requested,  both  privately 
and  publicly,  references  for  the  most  important  statements  of 
monastic  apologists,  such  as  Abbot  Gasquet,  and  that  these  refer- 
ences have  been  steadily  refused.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have 
given  very  definite  evidence  for  my  own  contentions  in  the  Con- 
tcmporajy  Beview,  and  in  a  separate  pamphlet.^^  Apologists  of 
the  Middle  Ages  have  played  upon  the  unwillingness  of  modern 
Englishmen  to  believe  facts  which  can  be  proved  to  the  hilt 
from  contemporary  records,  though  for  obvious  reasons  those  who 
know  these  facts  find  it  difficult  to  publish  them.  There  can  be 
no  better  testimony  to  the  civilizing  work  of  the  Reformation 
than  that  the  average  educated  Anglican  cannot  now  bring  him- 
self even  to  imagine  a  state  of  things  which  is  treated  as  notorious 
by  medieval  satirists  and  moralists,  and  is  recorded  in  irrefragable 
documents.  Charges  which  would  be  readily  enough  believed  in 
modern  Italy  or  Spain  find  little  acceptance  in  a  country  like  ours, 
where  monks  and  nuns,  living  in  a  small  minority  under  a  glare 
of  publicity  and  criticism,  keep  their  vows  with  a  strictness  far 
beyond  the  average  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

The  third  vow,  that  of  obedience,  was  as  radically  modified  as 
the  two  others  by  the  growth  of  St.  Francis's  originally  small 
family  into  an  enormous  Order.  The  most  significant  anecdote 
on  this  point  is  quoted  by  Wadding  under  the  year  1258.  In 
this  year  died  one  Brother  Stephen,  who  deposed  as  follows  to 
Thomas  of  Pavia,  Provincial  Minister  of  Tuscany — a  great  friend 
of  Salimbene's,  it  may  be  noted — "  I,  Brother  Stephen,  dwelt  for 
a  few  months  in  a  certain  hermitage  with  St.  Francis  and  other 
brethren,  to  care  for  their  beds  and  their  kitchen  ;  and  this  was 
our  manner  of  life  by  command  of  the  Founder.  We  spent  the 
forenoon  hours  in  prayer  and  silence,  until  the  sound  of  a  board 

t struck  with  a  mallet,  like  a  gong]  called  us  to  dinner.  Now  the 
loly  Master  was  wont  to  leave  his  cell  about  the  third  hour  [9]  ; 
and  if  he  saw  no  fire  in  the  kitchen  he  would  go  down  into  the 
garden  and  pluck  a  handful  of  herbs  which  he  brought  hom.e, 
saying,  '  Cook  these,  and  it  will  be  well  with  the  Brethren.'  And 
whereas  at  times  I  was  wont  to  set  before  him  eggs  and  milk 
food  which  the  faithful  had  sent  us,  with  some  sort  of  gravy  stew 
[cum  aliquo  jusculento],  then  he  would  eat  cheerfully  with  the 


Cloister  Life.  73 

rest  and  say, '  Thou  hast  done  too  much,  Brother ;  I  will  that 
thou  prepare  naught  for  the  morrow,  nor  do  aught  in  my  kitchen.' 
So  I,  following  his  precepts  absolutely,  in  all  points,  cared  for 
nothing  so  much  as  to  obey  that  most  holy  man  ;  when  therefore 
he  came,  and  saw  the  table  laid  with  divers  crusts  of  bread,  he 
would  begin  to  eat  gaily  thereof,  but  presently  he  would  chide 
me  that  I  brought  no  more,  asking  me  why  I  had  cooked  naught. 
Whereto  I  answered,  '  For  that  thou.  Father,  badest  me  cook 
none.'  But  he  would  say,  '  Dear  son,  discretion  is  a  noble  virtue, 
nor  shouldest  thou  always  fulfil  all  that  thy  Superior  biddeth 
thee,  especially  when  he  is  troubled  by  any  passion.' "  This 
anecdote,  which  is  quite  worthy  of  the  Fioretti,  gives  iis  a  most 
instructive  glimpse  into  the  strength  and  weakness  of  the  Saint's 
society.  All  his  ways  were  intensely  human  and  personal,  but 
everything  depended  on  his  own  spirit  and  his  own  presence. 
Nobody  could  have  been  angry  with  a  saint  who  confessed  so 
naively  that  he  did  not  wish  to  be  taken  at  his  word :  yet  one 
sees  at  a  glance  how  necessarily  the  increase  of  the  Order  thrust 
his  direct  authority  into  the  background,  and  how  naturally, 
while  the  veneration  for  his  sanctity  steadily  increased,  he  him- 
self fell  from  the  position  of  a  w6rking  Head  into  that  of  a 
Dalai  Lama,  a  sort  of  living  relic,  mighty  to  conjure  with,  but 
comparatively  passive  in  the  hands  of  others,  and  only  liberating 
his  soul  by  the  deathbed  protest  of  his  "  Testament "  against 
those  hateful  courses  upon  which  the  Order  had  already  embark- 
ed almost  beyond  recall. 

In  considering  this  revolt  against  St.  Francis's  rule,  we  must 
bear  in  mind  that  it  was  the  very  intensity  of  the  Saint's  ideal 
which  caused  that  recoil,  by  a  natural  law  as  inevitable  as 
gravitation.  Thomas  of  Eccleston's  history,  which  is  constantly 
quoted  as  the  most  vivid  picture  of  the  Order's  inner  life,  avow- 
edly refers  to  a  state  of  things  already  dead  and  gone  within 
thirty  years  of  the  Saint's  death  ;  already  the  writer  speaks  of 
the  persecutions  endured  by  those  who  strove  for  the  original 
purity.^'^  It  is  idle  to  charge  this  decay  to  Brother  Elias,  or  to 
any  man  or  group  of  men  ;  it  was  fatally  involved  in  the  very 
ideal  of  the  Saint.  As  he  hastened  his  own  death  by  sinning 
grievously  against  Brother  Body,  just  so  he  hastened  the  decay 
of  his  Order.  Admirably  as  he  protested  against  some  of  the 
crazy  asceticisms  of  his  age,  he  was  still  too  much  a  child  of  his 
time.  It  is  difficult  to  wish  anything  away  from  St.  Francis's 
own  life,  as  it  is  difficult  for  an  Englishman  to  regret  the  Charge 
of  the  Light  Brigade.  But,  when  our  present  age  is  taunted  for 
its  alleged  souUessness  by  reactionaries  whose  eyes  are  too  weak 


m^^  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

to  face  the  growing  light  of  the  times  in  which  they  live,  it  may 
be  profitable  to  point  out  that  in  the  Holy  War,  as  in  all  other 
wars  we  need  not  only  courage  and  sudden  self-sacrifice,  but  also 
calm  judgment  and  even  a  certain  amount  of  routine  work. 

The  self-imposed  hardships  of  an  average  friar's  life  were  very 
real  until  at  least  the  middle  of  the  13th  century.  Men  were 
not  wanting,  even  then,  who  managed  to  live  more  luxuriously  in 
the  Cloister  than  they  could  ever  have  done  in  the  World,  as 
their  Superiors  frequently  complained  :  but  quite  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  early  friars  had  been  boys  of  good  family  and 
position,  to  whom,  after  the  first  plunge,  the  trial  was  severe, 
for  some  years  at  least  We  see  something  of  this  in  the  case 
of  Salimbene,  richly  as  his  opportunities  of  travel  and  study  in- 
demnified him  for  those  cabbages  which  his  soul  abhorred.  We 
may  gather  it  also  from  the  very  frequent  mention  of  apostasies, 
either  contemplated  or  carried  out,  in  collections  of  Mendicant 
legends  ;  and  Berthold  of  Ratisbon,  preaching  to  his  Brethren 
about  the  middle  of  the  centtwy,  implies  the  same.  "  Almost 
all  Religious  who  have  failed  or  still  fail,  in  all  religious  Orders, 
have  perished  or  still  perish  by  reason  of  the  evil  example  which 
they  have  seen  and  still  see  'among  the  rest  to  whom  they  come. 
For  almost  all  enter  Religion  with  a  mind  most  readily  disposed 
to  all  good.  But  when  on  their  entry  they  find  one  impatient, 
another  wrathful,  another  carnal,  another  dissolute,  another 
agape  for  news,  another  a  mere  trifler,  another  backbiting, 
another  slothful,  another  breaking  St,  Francis's  prohibition 
against  receiving  money,  then  they  follow  in  their  ways  and 
become  like  unto  them.'  He  goes  on  to  speak  in  the  same  breath 
of  "  so  many  in  Religion  "  who  thus  '*  are  corrupted  and  perish  "  ; 
and  the  whole  tenour  of  his  sermons  to  his  fellow-friars  implies 
that,  among  the  crowds  who  pressed  with  more  or  less  precipita- 
tion into  the  Order  (for  the  year  of  novitiate  was  not  always 
strictly  enforced)  there  were  comparatively  few  who  even 
approached  its  strict  ideal.  We  get  glimpses  of  this  even  in  the 
records  of  the  heroic  age,  and  in  those  of  a  generation  later  the 
fact  is  gross  and  palpable.  As  St.  Bonaventura  shows  us,  the 
development  from  the  friar  of  the  Fioretti  to  something  very  like 
the  friar  of  Chaucer  was  rapid  and  inevitable.  Among  even  the 
best-intentioned  of  the  first  generation,  few  were  able  to  keep 
their  ascetic  enthusiasm  to  the  end.**  "  When  those  who  first 
kept  the  Order  in  its  vigour  are  taken  away  or  become  enfeebled 
in  body,"  writes  the  Saint,  "then  they  can  no  longer  give 
to  their  juniors  the  same  strict  examples  of  severity  as  of  old  ; 
and  the  new  Brethren,  who  never  saw  their  real  labours,  imitate 


Cloister  Life.  75 

them  only  in  that  which  they  now  behold  in  them,  so  that  they 
become  remiss,  and  spare  their  bodies  under  a  cloke  of  discretion, 
saying  that  they  will  not  destroy  their  bodies  as  did  the  Brethren 
of  old.  And,  for  that  they  see  not  the  inner  virtues  which  their 
elders  had,  they  are  negligent  on  both  sides,  neither  exercising 
themselves  in  outward  things  nor  grasping  the  inward  virtues." 
Berthold  makes  the  same  complaint  in  his  own  style.  "  Many 
take  good  care  to  avoid  serious  penance,  clapping  on  bandages 
before  they  are  wounded,  .  .  .  sparing  themselves  as  tenderly 
as  though  they  were  silkworms,  or  silken  stuff,  or  as  though  their 
flesh  were  as  brittle  as  an  eggshell."  Again,  "  they  spare  their 
bodies  almost  as  tenderly  as  the  relics  of  saints  "  ;  if  one  of  them 
has  but  a  little  grace  "  he  is  like  a  hen,  cackling  so  loudly  over  a 
single  egg,  that  all  grow  weary  of  her,  wherefore  she  is  driven 
forth  from  the  house  and  loses  her  egg.^'  "  Some  [friars']  hearts 
are  as  the  flesh  of  an  old  brood-hen,  nay,  as  that  of  an  old  wild 
duck,  which  can  scare  be  sodden ;  for  indeed  a  wild  duck  was 
taken  for  our  convent  which  we  boiled  three  days  long  and  yet 
it  lacked  all  natural  tenderness,  being  stiU  so  tough  that  no  man 
could  cut  it  with  a  knife,  nor  would  any  beast  eat  thereof.  Ye 
marvel  at  this  in  nature,  far  more  should  ye  marvel  that  some — 
and  thou  thyself  perchance  among  them — are  stewed  in  the 
kitchen  of  Religion  for  nine  or  ten  years,  nay,  for  twelve,  thirteen, 
or  thirty  years,  and  yet  are  ye  altogether  hard-hearted,  and,  what 
is  more,  impatient."^^ 

It  will  be  necessary  to  glance  again  at  the  Friars  as  a  whole 
towards  the  end  of  the  book ;  meanwhile  the  present  chapter 
may  prepare  the  reader  for  Salimbene's  experiences  in  the  Order. 
Miss  Macdonell  seems  to  think  that  the  average  friar  was  a  more 
serious  person  than  our  chronicler  ;  I  cannot  understand  anyone 
thinking  so  who  has  read  carefully  the  disciplinary  works  of  St. 
Bonaventura's  school,  the  Constitutions  of  the  Order,  Angelo 
Clareno's  Seven  Tribulations  as  edited  by  Father  Ehrle,  and 
Berthold  of  Ratisbon's  Sermons  to  his  Brethren.  A  study  of 
those  works  is  calculated  to  make  us  accept  Salimbene  at  some- 
thing nearer  to  his  own  estimate — as  standing  above  the  common 
average  of  bis  fellows  in  nearly  all  respects,  while  he  is  far  above 
that  average  in  natural  gifts,  learning,  and  experience  of  the  world. 


Chapter  VII. 

Frate  Elia. 

SALIMBENE  had  scarcely  completed  his  novitiate,  when  a 
storm  burst  which  had  long  been  brewing  within  the  Order. 
The  Minister-General  Elias,  leader  of  the  party  which  frankly 
abandoned  the  first  strict  ideal,  and  builder  of  the  splendid 
basilica  which  now  covers  the  Saint's  bones,  was  deposed  from 
his  office  after  a  bitter  struggle.  Instead  of  bearing  his  defeat 
patiently,  Elias  "  gave  scandal  to  the  Pope,  to  the  Church,  and 
to  his  Order,"  by  joining  the  Emperor  Frederick,  then  excom- 
municate and  at  war  with  the  Pope.  Franciscan  frocks  were 
thus  seen  flitting  about  in  the  rebel  camp,  for  Elias  had  taken 
others  over  with  him :  and  he  rode  abroad  publicly  with  the 
Emperor,  whose  trusted  counsellor  he  at  once  became.  "  Which 
was  an  evil  example  to  the  country  folk  and  the  rest  of  the  laity, 
for  whensoever  the  peasants  and  boys  and  girls  met  the  Brethren 
Minor  on  the  roads  of  Tuscany,  they  would  sing  (as  I  myself  have 
heard  a  hundred  times) 

'  Frat'  Elia  is  gone  astray, 
And  hath  ta'en  the  evil  way. ' 

At  the  sound  of  which  song  the  good  Brethren  were  cut  to  the 
heart,  and  consumed  with  deadly  indignation  "  (160). 

Nor  does  Salimbene's  story  of  these  first  years  leave  by  any 
means  an  impression  of  perfect  harmony  among  those  who 
remained  within  the  Order,  though,  as  will  presently  be  seen, 
he  himself  made  many  friends  there.  To  begin  with,  his  gall 
was  stirred  by  the  way  in  which  lady-superiors  of  Clarisses  often 
lorded  it  over  their  fellow-nuns  :  for  our  friar  was  no  believer  in 
"the  monstrous  regiment  of  women."  He  describes  (63)  the 
"  churlishness  and  avarice  "  of  the  Lady  Cecilia,  niece  to  Pope 
Innocent  IV,  and  Abbess  of  a  rich  convent  of  Clarisses  at  Lavagna. 
The  Clarisses  of  Turin  had  been  driven  from  their  convent  by  the 
ravage  of  war — a  common  story,  as  the  pages  of  Wadding  show — 


Frate  Elia.  77 

and  the  Visitor  of  the  Lombard  province  was  doing  his  best  to  find 
other  homes  for  the  poor  nuns.  One  only,  the  last  of  all,  was 
brought  to  this  rich  convent;  yet  the  Abbess,  in  her  "hardness  of 
heart  and  avarice  and  follj,"  refused  to  receive  a  fresh  inmate, 
and  drove  the  poor  refugee  ignominiouslj  from  her  door,  in  spite 
of  the  Visitor's  anathema.  "  Hereupon  an  ancient  and  devout 
Sister  of  the  convent  cast  herself  down  before  the  altar  and 
appealed  against  the  Abbess  to  God,  Who  presently  answered, 
'  I  have  heard  thy  prayer,  and  she  shall  be  no  more  Abbess.'  So 
the  Visitor  sent  a  swift  messenger  forthwith  to  Chiavari  to  learn 
what  had  befallen  that  Abbess,  and  he  found  her  dead  and 
cursed  and  excommunicate  and  imabsolved  ;  for  even  while  the 
messenger  was  yet  on  his  way,  she  began  to  be  grievously  sick 
and  to  fail  for  very  faintness,  and  after  divers  torments  she  sank 
down  on  her  bed  and  was  at  the  point  of  death,  crying, '  Sisters, 
I  die  I  Hasten  I  Help  !  Bring  me  some  remedy  ! '  The  Sisters 
came  forthwith,  pitying  their  Abbess,  as  was  right.  No  mention 
was  made  of  the  salvation  of  her  soul,  not  a  word  was  spoken  of 
confession.  Her  throat  so  closed  that  she  could  scarce  breathe ; 
and  now,  seeing  death  at  hand,  she  said  to  the  Sisters  who  were 
gathered  round  her,  *  Go  and  take  in  that  lady  !  Go  and  take  in 
that  lady  I  Go  and  take  in  that  lady  !  For  her  sake  hath  God 
smitten  me  !  For  her  sake  hath  God  smitten  me  !  For  her  sake 
hath  God  smitten  me  ! '  And  with  these  words  she  yielded  up 
her  spirit,  but  it  returned  not  to  God  Who  gave  it." 

Salimbene  thinks  the  lady  might  perhaps  have  behaved  better 
if  she  had  been  sent  to  rule  over  a  strange  convent  far  away  from 
her  powerful  kinsfolk ;  but,  to  his  eyes,  the  root  of  the  matter 
lay  in  the  constitutional  unfitness  of  women  to  bear  rule,  and  he 
dilates  on  this  subject  in  truly  medieval  fashion,  with  a  wealth 
of  Biblical  and  profane  quotations :  "  for  woman,  whensoever 
she  may,  doth  take  gladly  dominion  to  herself,  as  may  be  seen  in 

Semiramis  who  invented  the  wearing  of  breeches Blessed 

be  God  Who  hath  brought  me  to  the  end  of  this  matter  ! ' 

Yet,  in  spite  of  this  sigh  of  relief,  we  find  our  good  friar  recurring 
almost  immediately  to  the  same  ungallant  complaints,  and  again, 
a  propos  of  an  Abbess  of  Clarisses  (67  ).  This  was  again  in  the  first 
days  of  his  new  vocation,  at  Lucca,  where  he  formed  an  intimacy 
with  an  aristocratic  pair  of  doubtful  morals,  of  whom  he  writes 
with  his  usual  naivete  :  "  In  the  year  1229  the  Lord  Nazzaro 
Gherardini  of  Lucca  was  Podesta  of  Reggio,  when  he  built  the 
bridge  and  the  Porta  Bernone.  His  statue  was  set  up  in  marble 
on  the  Porta  Bernone  which  he  made,  and  there  he  sits  on  his 
marble  horse  in  the  city  of  Reggio.     He  was  a  comely  knight  and 


78  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

exceeding  rich,  mj  acquaintance  and  friend  when  I  dwelt  in  the 
convent  at  Lucca.  The  Lady  Fior  d'Oliva,  his  wife,  was  a  fair 
lady,  plump  and  full-fleshed,*  and  my  familiar  friend  and  spiritual 
daughter  (devota).  She  was  of  Trent,  the  wife  of  a  certain  notary, 
by  whom  she  had  two  daughters,  most  fair  ladies.  But  the  Lord 
Is  azzaro,  when  he  was  Podestaof  Trent,  took  her  from  her  husband 
and  brought  her,  not  unwilling,  to  the  city  of  Lucca ;  and  his  own 
wife,  who  was  still  alive,  he  sent  to  a  castle  of  his,  where  she 
dwelt  till  her  death.^  The  Lord  Nazzaro  died  childless,  and  gave 
great  riches  to  this  lady,  who,  in  course  of  time  was  beguiled 
(as  she  herself  hath  told  me)  into  another  marriage  in  the  city  of 
Reggio.  He  who  took  her  to  wife  was  Henry,  son  of  Antonio  da 
Musso,  and  she  liveth  yet  in  this  year  1283  wherein  I  write.  Both 
the  Lord  Nazzaro  and  the  Lady  Fior  d'Oliva  did  much  to  comfort 
the  Friars  Minor  of  Lucca  when  the  Abbess  of  the  Clarisses  at 
Gatharola  stirred  up  the  whole  city  of  Lucca  against  the  brethren, 
laying  a  blot  on  the  elect,  for  that  Brother  Jacopo  da  Iseo  would 
fain  have  deposed  her  because  she  bare  herself  ill  in  her  office. 
For  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  baker-woman  of  Genoa,  and  her 
rule  was  most  shameful  and  cruel,  and  unhonest  to  boot,  and  she 
would  fain  have  kept  her  rule  by  force,  that  she  might  still  be 
Abbess.  Wherefore,  the  better  to  hold  her  office,  she  lavished 
gifts  on  youths  and  men  and  worldly  ladies,  but  especially  on  those 
who  had  any  of  near  kin  in  her  convent.  And  to  such  she  would 
say,  '  This  is  why  the  Friars  Minor  would  fain  depose  me,  for  that 
I  will  not  suffer  them  to  sin  with  our  daughters  and  sisters ; ' 
and  so,  as  hath  been  said,  she  would  have  laid  a  blot  on  the  elect, 
for  she  lied  in  her  teeth.  Yet  for  all  that  she  was  deposed,  and 
the  Friars  recovered  their  honour  and  good  report,  and  the  city 
had  rest  from  her  troubling.  I  have  therefore  shown  plainly  how 
shameful  is  the  dominion  of  women." 

Sallmbene  records  only  one  other  noteworthy  incident  of  these 
first  days  at  Lucca.  (164)  "In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1239  there 
was  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,  wherein  the  light  of  day  was  horribly 
and  terribly  darkened,  and  the  stars  appeared.  And  it  seemed 
as  though  night  had  come,  and  all  men  and  women  had  sore  fear, 
and  went  about  as  if  bereft  of  their  wits,  with  great  sorrow  and 
trembling.  And  many,  smitten  with  terror,  came  to  confession, 
and  made  penitence  for  their  sins,  and  those  who  were  at  discord 
made  peace  with  each  other.  And  the  Lord  Manfred  da 
Cornazano,  who  was  at  that  time  Podesta,  took  the  Cross  in  his 
hands  and  went  in  procession  through  the  streets  of  Lucca,  with 

•  Pinguis  et  camoaa.    This  is  always  high  praise  from  Salimbene. 


Frate  Elia.  79 

the  Friars  Minor  and  other  men  of  religion  and  clerks.  And  the 
Podesta  himself  preached  of  the  Passion  of  Christ,  and  made 
peace  between  those  who  were  at  enmity.  This  I  saw  with  mine 
own  eyes,  for  I  was  there,  and  my  brother  Guido  di  Adamo  with 
me." 

It  was  apparently  from  Lucca  that  he  went  to  Siena,  where  he 
enjoyed  the  privilege  already  recorded  of  a  whole  winter's 
familiar  intercourse  with  St.  Francis's  first  disciple,  Bernard  of 
Quintavalle.  (39)  Here  also  he  received  his  first  tinge  of  J  oachitic 
^lillenarianism  from  Hugues  de  Digne  and  other  enthusiasts,  as 
will  be  seen  later  on.  Already,  like  most  of  his  brethren, 
Salimbene  took  an  active  part  in  politics,  working  for  the  Pope 
against  the  Emperor.  (174)  "  The  See  of  Rome  was  vacant  from 
the  year  1241  to  1243,  for  the  cardinals  were  dispersed  and  at 
discord,  and  Frederick  had  so  straitly  guarded  all  the  roads  that 
many  men  were  taken,  for  he  feared  lest  any  should  pass  through 
to  be  made  Pope.  Yea,  and  1  myself  also  was  often  taken  in 
those  days ;  and  then  1  learned  and  invented  the  writing  of  letters 
after  divers  fashions  in  cypher." 

In  spite  of  the  preponderance  of  the  lay  element  at  Pisa,  his 
next  place  of  abode,  he  made  very  good  friends  there  and  loved 
the  place.  Although  a  powerful  patron.  Brother  Anselm,  Minister 
Provincial  of  Terra  di  Lavoro  (552)  "  sent  me  letters  that 
1  should  go  with  my  brother  Guido  to  dwell  with  him  in  his 
province,  yet  the  Brethren  of  the  convent  of  Pisa  dissuaded  us 
from  the  journey,  for  that  they  loved  us."  Long  afterwards, 
writing  of  the  disastrous  defeat  of  the  Pisans  at  Meloria,  he  can- 
not help  showing  his  pity  for  the  sufferings  even  of  his  political 
opponents  :  "  God  knows  I  sorrow  for  them  and  pity  them  in  my 
heart,  for  I  lived  four  years  in  the  convent  of  Pisa  a  good  forty 
years  since."  (535).  Here  also  he  was  strengthened  in  his 
J  oachism  by  "  a  certain  abbot  of  the  Order  of  Fiore,  an  aged  and 
saintly  man,  who  had  placed  in  safety  at  Pisa  all  the  books  that 
he  had  of  Abbot  Joachim's,  fearing  lest  the  Emperor  Frederick 
should  destroy  his  abbey,  which  lay  on  the  road  from  Pisa  to 
Ijucca.  For  he  believed  that  in  the  Emperor  Frederick  all  the 
mysteries  of  iniquity  should  be  fulfilled.  And  Brother  Rudolf 
of  Saxony,  our  lector  at  Pisa,  a  great  logician  and  theologian 
and  disputer,  left  the  study  of  theology  by  reason  of  those  books 
of  Joachim's,  which  were  laid  up  in  our  convent,  and  became  a 
most  eager  Joachite"  (236). 

As  his  stay  at  Lucca  had  been  marked  by  an  eclipse,  so  at  Pisa 
he  was  startled  by  an  earthquake.  Two  similar  phenomena 
which  occurred  much  later,  in  1284,  carry  him  back  to  these  years 


8o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

of  his  first  vocation,  and  give  occasion  for  an  amusing  anecdote 
and  a  very  characteristic  dissertation.  (547-9).  "  Brother 
Roglerio  of  our  Order,  a  native  of  Lodi,  who  had  been  a  com- 
rade of  the  Visitor  of  the  Province  of  Bologna,  was  on  his  way 
back  from  the  Roman  Court  wherein  he  had  been  with  a  certain 
Cardinal,  and  when  he  passed  by  Corenno,  where  he  was  to  lodge, 
the  inhabitants  of  that  place  said  unto  him  '  Holy  father,  we  often 
feel  earthquakes  in  this  place.'  And  immediately  when  they  had 
said  this  an  earthquake  was  felt.  So  the  Brother  said  '  He 
looketh  on  the  earth,  and  it  trembleth  ;  He  toucheth  the  hills,  and 
they  smoke ' :  and  again  '  The  earth  trembled,  and  was  still '  ; 
and  again  '  Thou  hast  made  the  earth  to  tremble,  Thou  hast  broken 
it ;  heal  the  breaches  thereof,  for  it  shaketh.'  But  when  the 
Brother  had  finished  speaking  thus,  he  looked  round  and  saw  a 
certain  building  thatched  with  straw,  and  said  that  he  would  sleep 
therein  that  night,  '  For  if  I  sleep  in  some  other  house,  it  may  be 
that  the  gutter-stones  or  tiles  fall  upon  me,  if  the  house  be 
brought  low ;  and  there  I  shall  die.'  So  the  women  of  that 
village,  seeing  and  hearing  these  things,  carried  their  beds  into 
that  thatched  building,  that  they  might  sleep  in  safety  by  the 
side  of  the  Friars.  But  a  certain  old  man,  seeing  this,  said  to 
Brother  Roglerio  '  Ye  have  done  that  which  ye  should  not  have 
done.  For  ye  should  always  be  ready  to  accept  death,  that  the 
dust  may  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was,  and  the  spirit  unto  God 
who  gave  it.'  To  whom  the  Friar  answered  '  The  blessed  Jerome 
saith  that  "  It  is  prudent  to  fear  all  that  may  happen  "  ;  and 
Ecclesiasticus  "  The  wise  man  feareth  in  all  things  "  [also  Prov. 
xxviii.  14  and  xi.  15  ;  and  Eccles  xviii.  27].'  All  this  I  heard 
from  the  mouth  of  Brother  Roglerio."  With  regard  to  the 
following  eclipse,  Salimbene  quotes  a  whole  string  of  Bible  texts 
connecting  such  natural  catastrophes  with  the  signs  of  the  Last 
Judgment,  after  which  he  continues  (549),  "  I  have  multi- 
plied these  texts  because  at  one  time  the  sun  is  darkened,  and  at 
another  time  the  moon,  and  at  times  the  earth  will  quake  ;  and 
then  some  preachers,  having  no  texts  ready  prepared  for  this 
matter,  fall  into  confusion.  I  remember  that  I  dwelt  in  the  con- 
vent of  Pisa  forty  years  since  and  more,  and  the  earth  quaked  at 
night  on  St.  Stephen's  day ;  and  Brother  Chiaro  of  Florence  of 
our  Order,  one  of  the  greatest  clerks  in  the  world,  preached  twice 
to  the  people  in  the  cathedral  church  there,  and  his  first  sermon 
pleased  them,  but  the  second  displeased.  And  this  only  because 
he  founded  both  sermons  on  one  and  the  same  text,  which  was  a 
token  of  his  mastery,  since  he  drew  therefrom  two  discourses  ; 
but  the  accursed  and  simple  multitude  that  knew  not  the  law. 


Frate  Elia.  8 1 

thought  that  he  had  preached  again  the  same  sermon,  by  reason 
o£  that  same  text  which  had  been  repeated ;  wherefore  he  reaped 
confusion  where  he  should  have  had  honour.  Now  his  text  was 
that  word  of  Haggai,  '  Yet  a  little  while,  and  I  will  move  the 
heaven  and  the  earth  and  the  sea  and  the  dry  land.'  Note  that 
earthquakes  are  wont  to  take  place  in  cavernous  mountains, 
wherein  the  wind  is  enclosed  and  would  fain  come  forth  ;  but 
since  it  hath  no  vent  for  escape,  the  earth  is  shaken  and  trembles, 
and  thence  we  feel  an  earthquake.  Whereof  we  have  a  plain 
example  in  the  uncut  chestnut,  which  leaps  in  the  fire  and  bursts 
forth  with  might  and  main  to  the  dismay  of  all  who  sit  by." 
Pisa,  of  course,  is  a  city  of  the  plain,  but  it  is  interesting  to 
know  what  ideas  were  raised  in  Salimbene's  mind  by  the  mountains 
which  stand  round  it  on  the  horizon. 

At  Siena  he  had  received  the  subdiaconate  (329) ;  at  Pisa  he 
was  ordained  deacon  (182)  ;  some  time  during  the  year  1247  he 
left  the  province  of  Tuscany  and  went  to  Cremona,  where  he  soon 
found  himself  a  close  spectator  of  the  bloody  struggle  between 
Pope  and  Emperor.  But  before  following  him  into  that  world  of 
treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils,  let  us  glance  at  those  memories 
of  Tuscan  convents  which  most  haunted  his  mind  as  an  old  man. 

The  Order  in  its  early  days,  under  St.  Francis,  had  been 
specially  distinguished  by  its  unsacerdotal  character.^  The  saint 
himself  was  never  more  than  deacon  ;  and  in  a  letter  to  the  Order 
he  evidently  contemplated  the  presence  of  two  priests  in  a  single 
settlement  of  the  Brethren  as  quite  an  exceptional  case.  Of  the 
twenty-five  friars  whom  he  sent  to  evangelize  Germany  in  1221, 
thirteen  were  laymen,  as  were  also  five  of  the  nine  who  began  the 
English  mission  in  1224 ;  it  was  not  until  1239  that  a  priest, 
Agnello  of  Pisa,  was  elected  Minister-General  and  could  exclaim 
in  triumph  to  the  assembled  brethren,  "  Ye  have  now  heard  the 
first  mass  ever  celebrated  in  this  Order  by  a  Minister-General." 
St.  Francis  had  been  content  to  impose  on  his  brethren  a  plain 
and  brief  Rule,  without  "  constitutions  "  or  byelaws  ;  St.  Francis 
and  his  early  friars  had  lived  not  in  convents  but  in  hermitages.^ 
But  in  fourteen  years  the  ideal  of  the  Order  was  already  so 
changed  that  a  young  and  ambitious  student  like  Salimbene,  in 
spite  of  his  close  personal  intercourse  with  several  of  the  earliest 
Brethren,  coiild  count  it  among  the  worst  crimes  of  Brother 
Elias  to  have  followed  here  in  the  Founder's  steps,  though  in- 
deed he  accuses  him  of  having  done  so  with  a  far  different 
intention.*  He  speaks  of  it  as  scandalous  that  he  should  have 
had  to  associate  with  fifty  lay  brethren  during  his  six  years  at 
the  two  convents  at  Siena  and  Pisa,  and  that  he,  a  clerk,  should 


82  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

have  been  subject  at  different  times  to  a  lay  Gustos  and  several 
lav  Guardians.  As  to  the  lack  of  general  Constitutions,  though 
Salimbene  is  perfectly  aware  that  neither  St.  Francis  nor  his 
immediate  successor  Giovanni  Parenti  had  made  any,  yet  he 
complains  that  the  absence  of  such  hard-and-fast  rules  under 
Elias  resulted  in  a  sort  of  anarchy  ;  "  in  those  days  there  was  no 
king  in  Israel,"  he  quotes  (102)  ;  "but  every  one  did  that  which 
seemed  right  to  himself.  For  under  [Brother  Elias]  many  lay 
brethren  wore  the  clerical  tonsure,  as  I  have  seen  with  mine  own 
eyes  when  I  dwelt  in  Tuscany,  and  yet  they  could  not  read  a 
single  letter ;  some  dwelt  in  cities,  hard  by  the  churches  of 
the  Brethren,  wholly  enclosed  in  hermits'  cells,  and  they  had  a 
window  through  which  they  talked  with  women ;  and  the  lay- 
brethren  were  useless  to  hear  confessions  or  to  give  counsel ;  this 
have  I  seen  at  Pistoia  and  elsewhere  also.  Moreover,  some 
would  dwell  alone,  without  any  companion,*  in  hospitals ;  this 
have  1  seen  at  Siena,  where  a  certain  Brother  Martin  of  Spain, 
a  little  shrivelled  old  lay-brother,  used  to  serve  the  sick  in  the 
hospital,  and  went  alone  all  day  through  the  city  wheresoever  he 
would,  without  any  Brother  to  bear  him  company  ;  so  also  have 
I  seen  others  wandering  about  the  world.  Some  also  have  I  seen 
who  ever  wore  a  long  beard,  as  do  the  Armenians  and  Greeks, 
who  foster  and  keep  their  beard ;  moreover  they  had  no  girdle  ; 
some  wore  not  the  common  cord,  but  one  fantastically  woven  of 
threads  and  curiously  twisted,  and  happy  was  he  who  could  get 
himself  the  gayest  girdle.  Many  other  things  I  saw  likewise, 
more  than  I  can  relate  here,  which  were  most  unbecoming  to  the 
decency  of  the  Franciscan  habit.  Moreover  laymen  were  sent 
as  deputies  to  the  Chapter,  and  thither  also  a  mighty  multitude 
of  other  laymen  would  come,  who  had  no  proper  place  there 
whatsoever.  I  myself  saw  in  a  general  chapter  held  at  Sens  a 
full  300  brethren,  among  whom  the  laymen  were  in  the  greater 
number,  yet  they  did  nought  but  eat  and  sleep.  And  when 
I  dwelt  in  the  province  of  Tuscany,  which  had  been  joined 
together  out  of  three  provinces,  the  lay-brethren  were  not 
only  equal  in  numbers  to  the  clerics,  but  even  exceeded  them  by 
four.  Ah  God  !  Elias,  *  thou  hast  multiplied  the  nation,  and 
not  increased  the  joy.'  It  would  be  a  long  and  weary 
labour  to  relate  the  rude  customs  and  abuses  which  1  have 
seen ;  perchance  time  and  parchment  would  fail  me,  and  it 
would  be  rather  a  weariness  to  my  hearers  than  a  matter  of 
edification.  If  a  lay-brother  heard  any  youth  speaking  in  the 
Latin  tongue,  he  would  forthwith  rebuke  him,  saying,  '  Ha  I 
wretch  I  wilt  thou  abandon  holy  simplicity  for  thy  book-learn- 


Frate  Elia.  83 

ing  ?  "*  But  I  for  my  part  would  answer  them  thus  from  St. 
Jerome,  '  Holy  selfishness  profiteth  itself  alone  ;  and  howsoever 
it  may  edify  Christ's  Church  with  the  excellence  of  its  life,  by  so 
much  it  worketh  harm  if  it  resist  not  them  who  would  destroy  her.' 
In  truth,  as  saith  the  proverb,  an  ass  would  fain  make  asses  of  all 
that  he  seeth.  For  in  those  days  not  only  were  laymen  set  above 
priests,  but  in  one  hermitage,  where  all  were  laymen  save  one 
scholar  and  one  priest,  they  made  the  priest  work  his  day  in  the 
kitchen  in  turn  with  the  rest.  So  it  chanced  on  a  season  that  the 
Lord's  day  came  to  the  priest's  turn  ;  wherefore,  entering  the 
kitchen  and  diligently  closing  the  door  after  him,  he  set  himself 
to  cook  the  potherbs  as  best  he  could.  Then  certain  secular  folk, 
Frenchmen,  passed  that  way  and  earnestly  desired  to  hear  Mass, 
but  there  was  none  to  celebrate.  The  lay-brethren  therefore 
came  in  haste  and  knocked  at  the  kitchen  door  that  the  priest 
might  come  out  and  celebrate.  But  he  answered  and  spake  unto 
them,  '  Go  ye  and  sing  Mass,  for  I  am  busied  in  the  work  of  the 
kitchen,  which  ye  have  refused.'  Then  were  they  sore  ashamed, 
perceiving  their  own  boorishness.  For  it  was  boorish  folly  to  pay 
no  reverence  to  the  priest  who  confessed  them ;  wherefore  in 
process  of  time  the  lay-brethren  were  brought  to  nought,  as  they 
deserved,  for  their  reception  was  almost  utterly  forbidden,^ 
since  they  comprehended  not  the  honour  paid  them,  and  since  the 
Order  of  Friars  Minor  hath  no  need  of  so  great  a  multitude  of 
laymen,  for  they  were  ever  lying  in  wait  for  us  [clerics].  For  I 
remember  how,  when  I  was  in  the  convent  of  Pisa,  they  would 
have  sent  to  the  Chapter  to  demand  that,  whensoever  one  cleric 
was  admitted  to  the  Order,  one  lay-brother  should  be  admitted 
at  the  same  time,  but  they  were  not  listened  to — nay,  they  were 
not  even  heard  to  the  end — for  their  demand  was  most  unseemly. 
Yet  in  the  days  when  I  entered  the  Order,  I  found  there  men  of 
great  sanctity,  mighty  in  prayer  and  devotion  and  contemplation 
and  learning  ;  for  there  was  this  one  good  in  Brother  Elias,  that 
he  fostered  the  study  of  theology  in  the  Order." 

If  the  clerics  of  the  Order  smarted  under  Brother  Elias'  en- 
couragement of  the  lay-brethren,  all  alike  groaned  under  his 
masterful  government.  Even  in  St.  Francis's  lifetime  we  can 
see  a  natural  tendency  to  more  mechanical  methods  of  discipline 
as  the  Order  grew  in  size ;  in  the  Saint's  "Epistle  to  a  Minister  " 
of  1223  the  conception  of  discipline  is  still  paternal,  and  the 
Minister's  authority  mainly  moral ;  but  in  the  "Testament"  of 
only  three  years  later  we  find  already  a  stern  insistence  on  the 

•  Pro  tua  aapientia  acripturarum. 


84  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

necessity  of  imprisonment  for  heresy  or  certain  forms  of  disobe- 
dience among  the  Brethren.  Again,  among  the  Constitutions 
passed  at  Padua  in  1277  we  find  :  "item,  the  General  Chapter 
commands  that  there  be  strong  prisons  in  great  numbers  {multi- 
pliccs),  and  at  the  same  time  humane."  Salimbene's  Tuscan  re- 
collections of  the  years  1239-1247  fill  in  these  bare  notices 
admirably,  and  show  the  friction  caused  within  the  Order  by  the 
strong-willed,  unscrupulous  man  who  did  more  than  any  other  to 
discipline  these  spiritual  volunteers  into  a  rigidly  organized  papal 
militia. 

(104)  "  The  sixth  defect  of  Brother  EHas  was  that  he  afflicted 
and  reviled  the  Ministers  Provincial,  unless  they  would  redeem 
their  vexation  by  paying  tribute  and  giving  him  gifts.  For  he 
Avas  covetous  and  received  gifts,  doing  contrary  to  the  Scripture 
(Dent.  xvi.  19)  ;  whereof  we  have  an  example  in  Alberto  Balzo- 
lano,  the  judge  of  Faenza,  who  changed  his  judgment  on  hearing 
that  a  countryman  had  given  him  a  pig.  Moreover  the  aforesaid 
Brother  Elias  kept  the  Ministers  Provincial  so  utterly  under  his 
rod  that  they  trembled  at  him  as  a  rush  trembles  when  it  is  shaken 
under  the  water,  or  as  a  lark  fears  when  a  hawk  pursues  and 
strives  to  take  him.  And  this  is  no  wonder,  for  he  himself  was 
a  son  of  Belial,  so  that  no  man  could  speak  with  him.  In  very 
deed  none  dared  to  tell  him  the  truth  nor  to  rebuke  his  evil  deeds 
and  words,  save  only  Brothers  Agostino  da  Recanati  and  Bona- 
ventura  da  Iseo.*  For  he  would  lightly  revile  such  Ministers  as 
were  falsely  accused  to  him  by  certain  malicious,  pestilent,  and 
hot-headed  lay-brethren  his  accomplices,  whom  he  had  scattered 
abroad  throughout  the  Provinces  of  the  Order.  He  would  depose 
them  from  their  office  of  Minister  even  without  fault  of  theirs, 
and  would  deprive  them  of  their  books,  and  of  their  licence  to 
preach  and  hear  confessions,  and  of  all  the  lawful  acts  of  their 
office.  Moreover,  he  would  give  to  some  a  long  hoodf  and  send 
them  from  east  to  west,  that  is  from  Sicily  or  Apulia  to  Spain  or 
England,  or  contrariwise.  Moreover,  he  deposed  from  his 
Ministership  Brother  Albert  of  Parma,  Minister  of  the  Province 
of  Bologna,  a  man  of  most  holy  life  ;  and  he  bade  Brother  Gerard 
of  Modena,  whom  he  appointed  by  letter  into  the  place  of  the 
deposed  Minister,  to  bring  him  to  himself  at  Assisi  clad  in  the  hood 
of  probation.  But  Brother  Gerard,  who  was  a  most  courteous  man, 
said  nought  of  this  matter  to  the  Minister,  only  praying  him  that 
he  would  be  his  companion  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  the 

*  Not  to  be  identified  with  Dante's  Agostino  or  Bonaventura. 
t  ie.,  degrade  them  to  wear  the  novice's  hood. 


Frate  Elia.  85 

blessed  father  Francis.  When  therefore  Brother  Gerard  was  come 
with  Brother  Albert  near  to  Brother  Elias'  chamber,  he  brought 
forth  from  his  bosom  two  hoods  of  probation,  whereof  he  placed  one 
on  his  own  shoulders,  and  gave  the  other  to  the  Minister  of 
Bologna,  saying  '  Place  this  on  thine,  father,  and  await  mv  return 
to  thee.'  So  Brother  Gerard  went  in  to  Elias  and  fell  at  his 
feet  saying,  *  I  have  fulfilled  thine  obedience,  in  bringing  to  thee 
the  Minister  of  Bologna  with  a  hood  of  probation,  and  behold 
he  watcheth  without  and  is  willing  to  do  whatsoever  ye  command.' 
When  Elias  heard  this,  all  his  indignation  left  him,  and  the  spirit 
sank  wherewith  he  had  swelled  against  him.  So  Brother  Albert 
was  brought  in  and  restored  to  his  former  rank  ;  moreover,  he 
obtained  many  favours  also  for  his  Province  by  the  mediation  of 
Brother  Gerard.  Wherefore  on  account  of  this  and  other  deeds 
of  that  wicked  man  Elias,  thoughts  of  revenge  were  bred  in 
the  hearts  of  the  Ministers,  but  they  waited  for  the  time  when 
they  might  answer  a  fool  according  to  his  folly.  For  Brother 
Elias  was  a  most  evil  man,  to  whom  we  may  fitly  apply  those 
words  which  Daniel  saith  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  '  And  for  the 
greatness  that  he  gave  to  him,  all  people,  tribes,  and  languages 
trembled,  and  were  afraid  of  him  ;  whom  he  would,  he  slew  ; 
and  whom  he  would,  he  destroyed ;  and  whom  he  would,  he  set 
up  ;  and  whom  he  would,  he  brought  down.'  Moreover,  he  sent 
V  isitors  who  were  rather  exactors  than  correctors,  and  who 
solicited  the  Provinces  and  Ministers  to  pay  tributes  and  grant 
gifts  ;  and  if  a  man  gave  not  something  into  their  mouth,  they 
prepared  war  against  him.  Hence  it  came  about  that  the 
Ministers  Provincial  in  his  time  caused  to  be  made  at  Assisi,  at 
their  own  expense,  for  the  church  of  the  blessed  Francis,  a 
great  and  fair  and  sonorous  bell,  which  I  myself  have  seen, 
together  with  five  others  like  unto  it,  whereby  that  whole  valley 
was  filled  with  delightful  harmony.  So  likewise,  while  1  dwelt 
as  a  novice  in  the  convent  of  Fano,  I  saw  two  brethren  coming 
from  Hungary  and  bearing  on  sumpter-mules  a  great  and 
precious  salt  fish,  bound  up  in  canvas,  which  the  Minister  of 
Hungary  was  sending  to  Brother  Elias.  Moreover,  at  the  same 
time,  by  the  Minister's  mediation,  the  King  of  Hungary  sent 
to  Assisi  a  great  goblet  of  gold  wherein  the  head  of  the  blessed 
Francis  might  be  honourably  preserved.  On  the  way,  in  Siena, 
where  it  was  laid  one  night  in  the  sacristy  for  safety,  certain 
Brethren,  led  by  curiosity  and  levity,  drank  therefrom  a  most 
excellent  wine,  that  they  might  boast  thenceforward  of  having 
drunk  with  their  own  lips  from  the  King  of  Hungary's  goblet. 
But  the  Guardian  of  the  convent,  Giovannetto  by  name,  a  man 


86  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

zealous  for  justice,  a  lover  of  honesty,  and  a  native  of  Assisi, 
hearing  this,  bade  the  refectorer,  a  man  of  Belfort,  who  likewise 
was  named  Giovannetto — he  bade  him,  I  say,  at  the  morrow's 
dinner,  to  place  before  each  of  those  who  had  drunk  from  the 
goblet  one  of  those  little  kitchen-pots  called  pignatta^  black  and 
stained,  wherefrom  each  must  drink  will  he  nill  he,  in  order  that, 
if  he  would  boast  henceforward  of  having  once  drunk  from  the 
King's  goblet,  he  might  remember  also  how  for  that  fault  he  had 
drunk  from  a  foul  pipkin." 

Not  content  with  these  liberal  contributions  from  all  quarters, 
the  General  sought  also  for  the  Philosopher's  Stone.  (160)  "  He 
was  publicly  reported  of  dealing  in  alchemy,  and  it  is  certain 
that,  whenever  he  heard  of  Brethren  in  the  Order  who,  while  yet 
in  the  world,  had  known  aught  of  that  matter  or  craft,  he  would 
send  for  them  and  keep  them  by  him  in  the  Gregorian  Palace — 
for  Pope  Gregory  IX  had  built  himself  a  great  palace  in  the 
convent  of  Friars  Minor  at  Assisi,  both  in  honour  of  St.  Francis 
and  that  he  himself  might  dwell  there  when  he  came  to  Assisi. 
In  this  palace,  therefore,  were  divers  chambers  and  many  lodgings, 
wherein  Elias  would  keep  the  aforesaid  craftsmen,  and  many 
others  also,  which  was  as  much  as  to  consult  a  pythonic  spirit 
(Deut.  xviii,  11).  Let  it  be  imputed  to  him  ;  let  him  see  to  it "  ! 
It  may  be  that  Elias'  dealings  in  the  black  art  were  merely  a 
popular  fiction,  but  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  liberal  contribu- 
tions of  the  faithful  were  very  often  diverted  from  their  proper 
object — a  malpractice  common  everywhere  in  the  13th  century, 
when  pope  after  pope  set  the  example  of  collecting  money  for 
the  Crusades  and  spending  it  in  private  wars  or  in  worldly  pomp 
(157 ).  "  The  seventh  defect  of  Elias  was  that  he  would  live  in  too 
great  splendour  and  luxury  and  pomp.  For  he  seldom  went 
anywhither  save  to  Pope  Gregory  IX  and  the  Emperor  Frederick 
II,  whose  intimate  friend  he  was,  and  to  Santa  Maria  della 
Porziuncula  (where  the  Blessed  Francis  instituted  his  Order  and 
where  also  he  died),  and  to  the  convent  of  Assisi,  where  the  body 
of  the  Blessed  Francis  is  held  in  veneration,  and  to  the  House  of 
Celle  by  Cortona,  which  is  a  most  fair  and  delightful  convent, 
and  which  he  caused  to  be  specially  built  for  himself  in  the 
Bishopric  of  Arezzo,  for  he  was  to  be  found  either  there  or  in 
the  convent  of  Assisi.  And  he  had  fat  and  big-boned  palfreys, 
and  rode  ever  on  horseback,  even  if  he  did  but  pass  a  half-mile 
from  one  church  to  another,  thus  breaking  the  rule  which  saith 
that  Friars  Minor  must  not  ride  save  of  manifest  necessity,  or 
under  stress  of  infirmity.  Moreover,  he  had  secular  youths  to 
wait  on  him  as  pages,  even  as  the  Bishops  have,  and  these  were 


Frate  Elia.  87 

clad  in  raiment  of  many  colours  to  wait  on  him  and  minister  to 
hitn  in  all  things.  Moreover,  he  seldom  ate  in  the  convent  with 
the  other  brethren,  but  ever  alone  in  his  own  privy  chamber, 
which  in  my  judgmeot  was  great  boorishness,  for 

The  sweetest  joys  are  vain  as  air 
Unless  oar  friend  may  claim  his  share. 

Moreover,  he  had  his  special  cook  in  the  convent  of  Assisi,  Brother 
Bartholomew  of  Padua,  whom  I  have  seen  and  known,  and  who 
made  most  delicate  dishes."  An  anecdote  in  the  Chronicle  of 
the  xxiv  Generals  (p.  229)  at  once  corroborates  Salimbene  here, 
and  suggests  that  much  of  his  information  about  Eli  as  may  have 
come  from  his  old  comrade  at  Siena,  the  earliest  disciple  of  St. 
Francis.  "  Brother  Bernard  of  Quintavalle,  when  he  saw  Brother 
Elias  on  his  horse,  would  pant  hard  after  him  and  cry  '  This  is 
too  tall  and  big  ;  this  is  not  as  the  Rule  saith  ! '  and  would 
smite  the  horse's  crupper  with  his  hand,  repeating  the  same  again. 
And  when  Elias  fared  sumptuously  in  his  own  chamber.  Brother 
Bernard  aforesaid  would  at  times  rise  up  in  great  zeal  from  the 
table  of  the  refectory,  bearing  in  his  hand  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  flesh- 
hook  and  a  bowl,  and  would  knock  at  the  door  of  Brother  Elias's 
chamber.  When  therefore  the  door  was  opened  he  would  sit 
down  beside  the  Minister  at  his  table,  saying,  '  I  will  eat  with  thee 
of  these  good  gifts  of  God  : '  whereat  the  General  was  inwardly 
tormented,  yet  for  that  Bernard  was  held  in  the  utmost  reverence 
throughout  the  Order,  he  dissembled  altogether." 

Elias,  whose  despotic  rule  and  contempt  of  early  traditions 
made  him  so  widely  unpopular,  had  yet  the  magnetic  attraction 
of  a  bom  ruler  of  men.  He  enjoyed  the  love  of  St.  Francis,  the 
close  confidence  of  Emperor  and  Pope,  even  while  they  were  at 
war  with  each  other,  and  the  loyal  attachment  of  his  humble 
intimates.  As  Salimbene  continues,  speaking  of  his  special  cook, 
(157)  "this  man  clung  inseparably  to  Elias  until  the  last  day  of 
his  life,  and  so  also  did  all  they  of  his  household.  For  he  had  a 
special  household  of  twelve  or  fourteen  brethren,  whom  he  kept 
by  him  in  the  convent  of  Celle,  and  they  never  changed  the  habit 
of  the  Order" — i.e.  they  never  acknowledged  themselves  truly 
excommunicate  for  their  adherence  to  an  excommunicated  man. 
*'  And  after  the  death  of  their  evil  pastor,  or  rather  their  seducer, 
having  understood  that  they  were  deceived,  they  returned  to  the 
Order.  Moreover,  Elias  had  in  his  company  one  John,  whose 
surname  was  de  Laudibus  [of  Lodi  ?],  a  lay-brother,  hard  and  keen, 
and  a  torturer  and  most  evil  butcher,  for  at  Elias's  bidding  he 


88  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

would  scourge  the  brethren  without  mercy.  And  [just  before 
the  Chapter  of  1239]  Elias,  knowing  that  the  Provincial  Ministers 
were  gathered  together  against  him,  sent  commands  to  all  robust 
lay-brethren  throughout  Italy  whom  he  counted  as  his  friends, 
that  they  should  not  fail  to  come  to  the  General  Chapter ;  for  he 
hoped  that  they  might  defend  him  with  their  cudgels."  This 
plan  was  frustrated,  however ;  and  after  a  stormy  meeting,  in 
which  the  Pope  had  to  remind  the  friars  that  "  it  was  not  the 
fashion  of  Religious  "  to  shout  each  other  down  with  Thou  liest 
and  other  abusive  cries,  Elias  was  deposed.  His  Man  Friday, 
John  of  Lodi,  whose  great  bodily  strength  is  spoken  of  by  another 
chronicler,  died  in  the  odomr  of  sanctity,  and  miracles  were 
wrought  at  his  tomb  :  he  had  enjoyed  the  supreme  privilege  of 
touching  the  wound  in  the  side  of  St.  Francis.  This  is  not  in  the 
least  inconsistent  with  Salimbene's  account;  miracles  were 
commonly  worked  at  the  tombs  of  men  who  in  any  way  struck 
the  medieval  imagination,  even  as  champions  of  a  popular 
cause  in  purely  secular  politics,  like  Simon  de  Montfort  or  Thomas 
of  Lancaster.  St.  Thomas  a  Becket  would  have  done  all  that 
Salimbene  here  describes  for  the  cause  of  discipline  in  a  matter 
where  his  convictions  were  fixed. 


Chapter  VIII. 
The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar. 

SO  Elias  was  deposed  ;  yet  still  he  troubled  Israel.  Not  only 
was  his  life  in  his  first  retirement  at  Celle  a  scandal  to  the 
Rule,  but  presently  he  joined  the  Enaperor's  camp  openly,  as  we 
have  already  seen.  Salimbene  has  much  to  say  of  this  : — and, 
when  he  describes  the  difficulties  created  by  this  single  man,  we 
must  remember  also  how  many  more  of  the  same  sort  would  be 
created  by  the  numerous  supporters  who  had  once  raised  him  to 
the  Generalship  and  had  nearly  succeeded  in  procuring  his  re- 
election in  1239.  Indeed,  the  deposition  of  Elias  marks  only  the 
beginning  of  the  most  serious  Francisan  dissensions.  Salimbene 
tells  how  he  went  about  justifying  his  apostasy,  and  how  one 
friar  withstood  him  to  his  face,  finally  dismissing  him  with  St. 
Francis's  contemptuous  farewell,  "  Go  thy  way,  Brother  Fly." 
(161).  Salimbene's  dear  friend,  Gerard  of  Modena,  who  had 
known  Elias  well,  went  once  to  Celle,  and  laboured  all  day  long 
to  bring  him  back  to  the  Order :  but  in  vain.  Moreover,  as 
Gerard  tossed  on  his  sleepless  pallet  that  night,  "  it  seemed  to  him 
that  devils  like  bats  fluttered  all  night  long  through  the  convent 
buildings  :  for  he  heard  the  sound  of  their  voices,  and  fear  and 
trembling  seized  him,  and  all  his  bones  were  afirighted,  and  the 
hair  of  his  flesh  stood  up.  W  herefore,  Avhen  morning  was  come, 
he  took  his  leave  and  departed  in  all  haste  with  his  companion. 
So  in  process  of  time  Brother  Elias  died :  he  had  been  excom- 
municated aforetime  by  Pope  Gregory  IX  :  whether  he  was 
absolved  and  whether  he  ordered  things  well  with  his  soul,  he 
himself  knoweth  now  :  let  him  look  to  it !  But  in  course  of  time 
(since,  as  the  Wise  Man  saith,  there  is  a  time  and  opportunity 
for  every  business),  a  certain  Oustode  dug  up  his  bones  and  cast 
them  upon  a  dunghill.  Now  if  any  would  fain  know  whereunta 
this  Brother  Elias  was  like  in  bodily  aspect,  I  say  that  he  may 
be  exactly  compared  to  Brother  Ugo  of  Reggio,  surnamed 
Pocapaglia,  who  in  the  world  had  been  a  master  of  grammar,  and 
a  great  jester  and  a  ready  speaker  :  and  in  the   Order  of  the 


90  From  St.  Francis  tp  Dante. 

Friars  Minor  he  was  an  excellent  and  mighty  preacher,  who  by 
his  sermons  and  his  parables  confuted  and  confounded  those  who 
attacked  our  Order.  For  a  certain  Master  Guido  Bonatti  of 
Forli^  who  called  himself  a  philosopher  and  astrologer,  and  who 
reviled  the  preaching  of  the  Fi'iars  Minor  and  Friars  Preachers, 
was  so  confounded  by  Brother  Ugo  before  the  whole  people  of 
Forli  that  he  not  only  feared  to  speak,  but  durst  not  even  show 
himself  during  all  the  time  that  the  Brother  was  in  those  parts. 
For  he  was  brimful  of  proverbs,  stories,  and  instances  ;  and  they 
sounded  excellently  in  his  mouth,  for  he  ever  suited  them  to  men's 
manners  ;  and  he  had  a  ready  and  gracious  tongue,  that  the 
people  were  glad  to  hear  him.  Yet  the  ministers  and  prelates  of 
the  Order  loved  him  not,  for  that  he  spake  in  parables,  and  would 
confound  them  with  his  instances  and  proverbs  :  but  he  cared 
little  for  them,  since  he  was  a  man  of  excellent  life.  Let  it 
suffice  me  to  have  said  thus  much  of  Brother  Elias."  (163). 

The  fall  of  Elias  leads  Salimbene  to  moralize  on  the  advantages 
of  constitutional  as  compared  with  absolute  government  in  a 
religious  Order.  The  Friars  differed  from  the  older  Orders  in 
their  frequent  change  and  re-election  of  officials,  a  system  in 
which  we  find  one  of  the  many  strong  points  of  similarity  between 
the  Revival  of  the  Xlllth  century  and  the  Wesleyan  movement.^ 
This  frequent  change  had  Salimbene's  hearty  approval.  For 
one  thing,  familiarity  was  apt  to  breed  contempt.  (146)  "  I 
have  seen  in  mine  own  Order  certain  Lectors  of  excellent  learning 
and  great  sanctity  who  had  yet  some  foul  blemish  {merditatem\ 
which  caused  others  to  judge  lightly  of  them.  For  they  love  to 
play  with  a  cat  or  a  whelp  or  with  some  small  fowl,  but  not  as 
the  Blessed  Francis  was  wont  to  play  with  a  pheasant  and  a 
cicada,  rejoicing  the  while  in  the  Lord."^ 

Again,  the  official  might  have  some  stiange  defect  which 
forbade  his  inspiring  proper  veneration;  for  instance  (137)  "I 
was  once  under  a  minister  named  Brother  Aldebrando,  of  whom 
Brother  Albertino  of  Verona  (whose  sayings  are  much  remem- 
bered) was  wont  to  say  in  jest  that  there  must  have  been  a 
hideous  idea  of  him  in  God's  mind.*  For  his  head  was  mis- 
shapen after  the  fashion  of  an  ancient  helmet,  with  thick  hair  on 
his  forehead  :  so  that  whenever  it  fell  to  him,  in  the  service  for 
the  octave  of  the  Epiphany,  to  begin  that  antiphon,  '  caput 
draconis '  {the  dragons   head),  then  the  brethren  would  laugh, 

*  Quad  turpem  ideam  in  Deo  habuerat,  an  allusion  to  Plato's  doctrine  of  ideas, 
According  to  which  everything  in  the  visible  universe  had  its  eternal  exemplar  in 
the  Divine  mind  :  so  at  least  Plato  was  understood  in  the  Middle  Ages. 


The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar.  91 

and  he  himself  would  be  troubled  and  ashamed.  But  I  used  to 
recall  that  saying  of  Seneca,  *  Of  what  sort,  thinkest  thou,  is  the 
soul  within,  where  the  outward  semblance  is  so  hideous  ?'.... 
Therefore  we  advise  the  Prelate,  who  is  set  for  an  example  to 
others,  to  abstain  from  levities  so  far  as  in  him  lies ;  and,  if  he 
indulged  in  such  when  he  was  a  private  person,  let  him  quit  them 
altogether  when  promoted  to  a  prelacy  :  as  a  man  did,  whom  the 
monks  of  a  certain  monastery  chose  for  abbot  as  being  the  most 
disorderly  {dissolutum)  of  all,  hoping  to  live  more  laxly  under 
his  rule.  But  when  he  was  made  abbot,  he  caused  the  rule  and 
statutes  of  his  predecessors  to  be  nobly  kept.  So  the  monks,  be- 
ing grieved  beyond  measure,  said  to  their  abbot '  we  chose  thee 
in  the  hope  of  fulfilling  the  desire  of  our  hearts  under  thy  rule  : 
but  thou  seemest  changed  into  another  man.'  To  whom  he 
answered  '  My  sons,  this  is  the  change  of  the  right  hand  of  the 
Most  High.'  ....  But  there  are  some  who,  as  prelates,  practise 
levities  even  as  they  did  aforetime  when  they  were  private  per- 
sons "  (149). 

Furthermore,  a  once  vigorous  prelate  may  fall  into  his  second 
childhood,  as  (150)  "  I  have  ofttimes  read  in  the  Libe?'  Pontifica- 
lis  of  Ravenna  that  a  certain  Archbishop  of  that  see  became  so 
old  as  to  speak  childishly,  for  he  was  grown  a  babe  among  babes. 
So  when  the  Emperor  Charlemagne  should  come  to  Ravenna 
and  dine  with  him,  his  clergy  besought  him  to  abstain  from 
levity  for  his  honour's  sake,  and  for  a  good  example  in  the  great 
Emperor's  presence :  to  whom  he  made  answer,  '  Well  said, 
my  sons,  well  said  ;  and  I  will  do  as  ye  say.'  So  when  they 
were  seated  side  by  side  at  table,  he  patted  the  Emperor's 
shoulders  familiarly  with  his  hand  saying,  '  Pappa,t  pappa, 
Lord  Emperor  ! '  The  Emperor,  therefore  asked  of  those  who 
stood  by  what  this  might  mean :  and  they  answered  him,  '  He 
would  invite  you  in  childish  fashion  to  eat  with  him ;  for  he  is 
in  his  dotage.'  Then  with  a  cheerful  face  the  Emperor  embraced 
him,  saying,  '  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  there  is  no 
guile.'" 

Therefore  the  Prelates  (i.e.,  officials)  of  Religious  Orders 
should  be  regularly  and  frequently  changed,  as  the  Captains  and 
Podestas  of  the  cities,  in  whose  case  the  plan  works  admirably. 
It  works  admirably  also  amongst  the  Friars  ;  for  (,112)  "  Let  it 
be  noted  that  the  conservation  of  religious  Orders  lieth  in  the 
frequent  change  of  Prelates,  and  this  for  three  reasons.  First, 
lest  they  wax  too  insolent  with  their  long  prelacy,  as  we  see  in 

■    t  Cf.  Dante,  Purg.^  xi  106. 


92  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  abbots  of  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict,  who,  since  they  hold 
office  for  life  and  are  not  deposed,  treat  their  subject  monks  as  a 
mere  rabble  (yilificant  subditos  suos),  and  esteem  them  no  more 
than  the  fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon,  which  is  a  thing  of  nought ; 
and  the  abbots  eat  flesh  with  laj  folk  while  the  monks  eat  pulse 
in  their  refectory ;  and  many  other  burdensome  and  unseemly 
things  they  do  to  their  subjects,  which  they  should  not  do,  since 
they  themselves  choose  to  live  in  splendour  and  in  the  greatest 
liberty.*  Moreover,  not  only  do  nature  and  human  courtesy  bid 
them  not  afflict  their  subjects  nor  do  them  evil,  but  Holy 
Scripture  also,  and  the  example  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Of  courtesy  we  have  an  example  in  a  certain  King 
of  England,  to  whom,  as  he  was  at  supper  with  his  knights  by  a 
spring  in  a  wood,  a  vessel  of  wine  was  brought  such  as  the  Tus- 
cans cdXXJiasconey  and  the  Lombards  bottaccio.  Having  asked, 
and  received  an  answer  that  there  was  no  more  wine  than  this,  he 
said  ;  '  Here  then  is  enough  for  all,'  and  poured  the  whole  vessel 
into  the  spring,  saying,  '  Let  all  drink  in  common  '  ;  which  was 
held  to  be  a  great  courtesy  in  him.*  Not  so  doth  the  miser  who 
saith,  '  I  have  found  me  rest,  and  now  I  will  eat  of  my  goods 
alone ' :  not  so  do  those  Prelates  who  eat  the  finest  white  bread 
and  drink  the  best  and  choicest  wine  in  the  presence  of  their 
subjects  and  of  those  who  eat  with  them  in  the  same  house,  and 
who  give  nought  thereof  to  their  subjects  (which  is  held  to  be 
utter  boorishness)  ;  and  so  also  they  do  with  other  meats.  More- 
over some  Prelates  drink  choice  wine,  yet  give  nought  thereof 
to  their  subjects  who  are  present,  though  these  would  as  gladly 
drink  as  they  ;  for  all  throats  are  sisters  one  to  another.*  But 
the  Prelates  of  our  time,  who  are  Lombards,  gladly  take  to  them- 
selves all  that  their  throats  and  appetites  crave,  and  will  not  give 
thereof  to  others.  Indeed,  that  curse  seems  in  our  days  to  be 
fulfilled  which  Moses  imprecated  upon  evil-doers,  saying  '  Thine 
ox  shall  be  slain  before  thine  eyes,  and  thou  shalt  not  eat  there- 
of.' The  prelates  of  our  days,  for  the  most  part,  *  come  for  to 
kill  and  to  steal  and  to  destroy,'  as  is  written  in  St.  John  ;  and 
as  Micah  saith  '  the  best  of  them  is  a  briar,  the'' most  upright  is 
as  a  thorn  hedge.'  And  if  some  man  would  now  write  a  dia- 
logue concerning  prelates,  as  St.  Gregory  did,  he  might  rather 
find  offscourings  than  holy  prelates  ;  for  as  Micah  again  saith, '  the 
good  man  is  perished  out  of  the  earth,  and  there  is  none  upright 
among  men.'     Yet  after  Christ's  example  the  Prelates  should 

•  This  was  probably  the  Be  Qiovane  of  Inf.  xxviii.  135,  vrho  was  a  byeword  for 
courtesy  and  liberality :  cf.  Novdlino,  15,  16,  87.  . 


The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar.  93 

minister  to  their  subjects :  as  is  indeed  done  in  the  Order  of 
Pietro  Peccatore  ;  for  on  fast  days  at  Collation  the  priors  pour 
out  drink  to  their  subjects  in  memory  of  the  Lord's  example. 
Now  the  head  of  the  Order  of  Pietro  Peccatore  is  in  the  church 
of  Santa  Maria  in  Porto  at  Ravenna  ;  and  of  the  same  Order  is 
the  convent  of  Santa  Felicula  near  Montilio  in  the  Bishopric  of 
Parma,  and  several  other  houses  in  divers  parts  of  the  world."*^ 
Not  only  does  the  Rule  of  St.  Francis  bid  that  the  superiors 
should  be  real  servants  of  the  Brethren,  but  they  might  learn 
from  the  example  even  of  a  heathen  like  Julius  Ca;sar,  who  never 
said  to  his  soldiers  "  Go  and  do  that,"  but  "  Let  us  come  and  do 
this." 

Salimbene  goes  on  to  complain  that,  whereas  the  Apostles  and  the 
first  Christians  had  all  things  in  common,  "it  is  not  so  nowadays" 
even  in  Franciscan  convents.  St.  Francis's  Rule  prescribes  that 
the  Minister  should  be  a  servant  to  all  his  brethren,  and  Christ 
rebukes  the  Pharisees  for  taking  the  foremost  places  in  the 
synagogues,  etc. :  "  Yet  the  prelates  of  our  time  do  this,  to  the 
very  letter."  Our  Lord,  again,  likened  His  care  for  mankind  to 
that  of  a  hen  for  her  chickens  :  but  the  evil  prelate  of  to-day 
rather  resembles  that  ostrich  of  which  Job  writes,  "  she  is 
hardened  against  her  young  ones,  as  though  they  were  not  hers." 
The  hen  defends  her  chickens  against  the  fox,  "  which  is  a 
stinking  and  fraudulent  beast  "  :  so  should  the  prelate  defend  his 
fellow-friars  against  the  Devil  or  worldly  tyrants.  The  hen, 
"  finding  a  grain  of  corn,  hideth  it  not,  but  rather  crieth  aloud 
that  her  brood  may  flock  to  her :  and  when  they  are  come  she 
casteth  the  grain  before  them  without  distinction  of  white  or 
black  or  brown,  but  giving  to  each  alike :  yet  the  prelates  of 
our  days  love  not  their  subjects  equally,  but  with  a  private  love : 
some  they  count  as  sons,  others  as  stepsons  or  spurious  :  and  the 
same  whom  they  invite  to  share  their  good  cheer  to-day,  to  the 
same  they  give  just  as  freely  on  the  morrow.  But  the  rest  who 
sing  the  invitatorium  and  whose  place  is  in  the  refectory  {i.e.  who 
do  not  eat  apart  with  the  prelate,)  stand  all  the  while  idle  and 
grumble  and  murfnur,  saying  with  the  poet,  '  The  wild  boar  is 
feared  for  his  tusks,  the  stag  is  defended  by  his  horns  ;  while  we 
the  peaceful  antelopes  are  a  helpless  prey ' :  which  is  as  much  as 
to  say,  '  the  flies  flock  to  the  lean  horse  "(118).  This  favouritism 
of  our  modern  prelates  in  their  invitations  to  good  cheer  is 
contrary  both  to  our  Lord's  words  (Luke  xiv.  12)  and  to  the 
example  of  St.  Lawrence,  which  Salimbene  quotes  at  length. 
"  But  [modern  prelates]  have  loved  the  glory  of  men  more  than 
the  glory  of  God,  and  therefore  shall  they  be  confounded.     For 


94  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

thej  say,  '  To-day  I  will  give  you  a  good  dinner  in  the  hope  that 
ye  will  give  me  the  same  to-morrow  '  :  of  whom  the  Lord  saith, 
*  Amen  I  say  unto  you,  they  have  received  their  reward ' "  (119). 
To  these  faults  of  unfairness  and  self-seeking  the  Prelates  too 
often  add  that  of  discourtesy  :  which  Salimbene  rebukes  by 
three  Scriptural  examples.  Our  Lord  desired  (not  commanded^ 
Simon  to  draw  back  a  little  from  the  land  :  Simon  himself  said 
to  Cornelius,  *  Arise,  I  myself  also  am  a  man  '  :  and  the  Angel 
of  the  Apocalypse  said  the  same  to  St.  John.  "  Lo  therefore 
how  our  Lord  and  the  Apostle  Peter  and  the  Angel  honour  God's 
servants  ;  and  how  these  boorish  Prelates  raise  themselves  above 
them  in  their  pride  !  Note  that  in  some  religious  Orders  there 
will  at  times  be  men  who  were  noble  in  the  world,  rich  and 
powerful,  and  who  are  ancient  in  the  Order  both  as  to  their  own 
days  and  as  to  the  time  of  their  entrance  into  Religion  ;  more- 
over, better  still,  they  are  spiritual  and  contemplative  and  devout 
and  amiable  to  the  Brethren  ;  they  are  endowed  also  with  wisdom 
and  learning,  having  a  knowledge  of  books  and  a  ready  tongue 
and  mother-wit  and  honest  morals.  Yet  over  such  men  a  Prelate 
may  be  set  who  is  of  obscure  birth,  insufficient  and  unprofitable 
in  all  the  aforesaid  qualities,  and  yet  he  will  come  to  such  pride 
and  folly  that  his  heart  will  be  lifted  to  pride  against  his 
brethren,  paying  reverence  to  no  man,  but  addressing  all  in  the 
singular  number  with  ^tu^  \  which,  as  I  may  say,  is  not  permitted 
except  for  five  reasons."  Here  he  launches  into  a  dissertation 
from  which  we  learn  incidentally  how  little  the  use  of  the  pro- 
nouns was  as  yet  fixed  in  Italian  :  for  "  the  Apulians  and  Sicilians 
and  Romans  say  thou  to  the  Emperor  or  the  Pope  himself,  while 
the  Lombards  say  yon  not  only  to  a  child  but  even  to  a  hen  or  a 
cat  or  a  piece  of  wood"  (120).  He  admits,  indeed,  that  "even 
good  Prelates  have  their  persecutors  and  evil-speakers  and 
scorners,"  (120)  for  there  are  always  sons  of  Belial,  unbridled 
and  uncontrolled,  like  those  who  despised  Saul.  But  he  harks 
back  to  the  same  complaints.  "  Doctors  prescribe  to  their  patients 
many  things  which  they  themselves  will  not  do  when  they  are 
sick  :  so  Prelates  know  how  to  teach  their  subjects  many  things 
which  they  will  not  do  themselves  :  as  the  Lord  said,  'For  they 
say  and  do  not'  (122).  As  to  what  we  said  above,  that  he 
who  is  chosen  to  a  Prelacy  should  know  his  own  insufficiency,  if 
he  be  insufficient,  we  say  here  that  this  can  seldom  be,  for  who- 
soever has  dominion  and  authority  believes  himself  forthwith 
altogether  sufficient,  both  in  wisdom  and  in  eloquence  and  in  all 
things  necessary  to  a  Prelate  "  (123).  He  is  apparently  thinking 
mainly    of  the   older  Orders  when  he  complains,  a  propos   of 


The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar.  95 

Ecclesiasticus  xiv.  3,  4  (153)  "we  often  see  this  fulfilled  to  the 
letter ;  for  one  Prelate  will  have  much  wealth  heaped  together, 
yet  God  doth  not  grant  him  power  to  eat  thereof,  but  another 
coming  after  him  will  scatter  them  abroad."  Against  similar 
faults  he  has  already  quoted  (136)  "  the  example  of  that  rich  man 
who  gave  nought  to  the  poor,  and  was  utterly  given  up  to  gluttony 
and  lechery,  nor  would  he  hear  Mass  or  Gospel.  So  when  the 
priests  and  clergy  sang  a  Requiem  over  his  corpse,  the  Crucifix 
thrust  its  fingers  into  its  ears,  saying  that  it  would  in  no  wise 
hear  the  man  who  had  scorned  to  hear  its  voice."  Prelates  are 
apt  to  be  hasty-tempered,  and  to  excuse  themselves  by  pleading 
a  choleric  complexion :  such  have  no  business  in  office,  for  (as 
we  may  see  from  Ecc.  x.  5-7),  "  we  cannot  reduce  a  fool  to  silence 
by  promoting  him  to  the  dignity  of  a  Prelacy.  This  we  see  done 
daily  ;  for  a  man  is  promoted  who  is  not  worth  three  pence, 
(unless  he  chance  to  have  them  in  his  mouth)  ;  and  this  is  done 
of  private  affection,  while  another  man,  though  fit  and  sufficient, 
will  find  no  grace."  Nowadays,  indeed,  as  often  in  the  past,  a 
man  risks  his  immortal  soul  by  accepting  promotion  in  the  Chiu'ch 
( 142)  :  a  saint  of  old  once  cut  off  his  own  ears  to  avoid  being 
made  Bishop,  and,  when  this  proved  an  insufficient  protection, 
swore  that  he  would  cut  out  his  tongue  also  unless  they  left  him  in 
peace.  This  holy  man,  continues  our  chronicler,  resembled  the 
beaver,  who  will  mutilate  himself  to  escape  from  his  pursuers. 
He  cites  the  well-known  example  of  Geoffroi  de  Peronne,  prior 
of  Clairvaux,  who  "  was  chosen  Bishop  of  Tournay  and  whom 
Pope  Eugenius  and  his  abbot  St.  Bernard  would  have  compelled 
to  submit  to  the  burden  :  but  he  fell  on  his  face  in  the  form  of  a 
cross  at  the  feet  of  the  abbot  and  the  clergy  who  had  elected 
him,  saying  :  '  I  may  indeed,  if  ye  elect  me,  be  a  runaway  monk, 
but  I  shall  never  be  a  bishop.'  When  he  was  in  his  death-agony 
a  monk,  his  dear  friend,  who  sat  by  his  bedside,  said  :  '  Dear 
friend,  now  that  we  are  being  separated  in  the  body,  I  pray  thee 
(if  by  God's  will  thou  art  able)  to  reveal  me  thy  state  after 
death.'  So,  as  he  prayed  after  his  friend's  death  in  front  of  the 
altar,  Geoffrey  appeared  to  him  in  a  vision  saying  :  '  Lo  here  am 
I,  Geoffrey  thy  brother  I '  To  whom  the  other  said  '  Dear  friend, 
how  is  it  with  thee  ?  '  Whereunto  he  replied,  '  1  am  well ;  but 
it  has  been  revealed  to  me  by  the  Holy  Trinity  that,  if  I  had 
been  promoted  to  a  bishopric,  I  should  have  been  among  the 
number  of  the  damned.'  " 

It  will  be  as  well  to  close  this  chapter  with  the  summary  of 
another  most  characteristic  digression  of  Salimbene's.  He  has 
been  quoting  many  shining  examples  of  the  past  who  might  well 


^6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

shame  the  authorities  of  his  day  into  something  better  (132). 
For  post-BibHcal  times  he  chooses  as  typical  heroes  Saints 
Silvester,  Nicholas,  and  Thomas  of  Canterbury.  The  mention 
of  St.  Nicholas  leads  him  into  a  tirade  which  reads  like  a 
fragment  of  the  Wife  of  Bath's  Prologue.  It  may  well  be 
commended  to  the  notice  of  those  who  have  hastily  inferred 
that,  because  the  Franciscans  exaggerated  the  already  exag- 
gerated devotion  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  they  were  therefore 
possessed  with  a  "  chivalric  respect  for  women  "  and  "  restored 
woman  to  her  rightful  position  in  Christian  society."^  Salimbene, 
it  must  be  remembered,  was  no  farouche  ascetic  :  he  tells  us 
more  than  once  of  the  charming  ladies  whose  director  he  has 
been  ;  he  was  far  from  holding,  with  St.  Bonaventui*a's  cherished 
secretary,  that  women  are  not  fit  objects  for  a  friar  even  to  gaze 
upon.  The  quotations  which  he  here  heaps  together  are  simply 
commonplaces  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  represent  the  ordinary 
clerical  attitude  towards  the  fair  sex.  "  Note,"  he  writes,  "  that 
it  is  said  of  St.  Nicholas,  '  he  avoided  the  company  of  women '  : 
and  herein  he  was  wise ;  for  it  was  women  who  deceived  the 
children  of  Israel  (Num.  xxxi.).  Wherefore  it  is  written  in 
Ecclesiasticus,  '  Behold  not  every  body's  beauty  ',  and  tarry 
not  among  women.  For  from  garments  cometh  a  moth,  and 
from  a  woman  the  iniquity  of  a  man.'  Again,  in  Ecclesiastes, 
*  I  have  found  a  woman  more  bitter  than  death,  who  is  the 
hunter's  snare,  and  her  heart  is  a  net,  and  her  hands  are  bands. 
He  that  pleaseth  God  shall  escape  from  her  :  but  he  that  is  a 
sinner,  shall  be  caught  by  her.'  In  Proverbs  again,  '  Why  art 
thou  seduced,  my  son,  by  a  strange  woman,  and  art  cherished 
in  the  bosom  of  another  ?  '  Again  in  the  sixth  chapter,  '  Let  not 
thy  heart  covet  her  beauty,  be  not  caught  with  her  winks  :  For 
the  price  of  a  harlot  is  scarce  one  loaf  :  but  the  woman  catcheth 
the  precious  soul  of  a  man.'  And  again  in  the  twenty-third, '  For 
a  harlot  is  a  deep  ditch  :  and  a  strange  woman  is  a  narrow  pit. 
She  lieth  in  wait  in  the  way  as  a  robber,  and  him  whom  she 
shall  see  unwary,  she  shall  kill.'  Moreover,  Jerome  saith,  '  It  is 
perilous  to  be  ministered  to  by  one  whose  face  thou  dost  frequently 
study':*  and  again,  'Believe  me,  he  cannot  be  whole-hearted 
with  God  to  whom  women  have  close  access  '  ;  and  again,  '  With 
flames  of  fire  doth  a  woman  sear  the  conscience  of  him  who 
dwelleth   by   her ' ;  and  again,  '  Where  women  are  with  men, 

•  Lady  readers  may  be  glad  to  learn  that,  among  all  the  xoi-disant  patristic 
quotations  in  this  passage,  only  this  first  from  St.  Jerome  is  genuine.  Prof, 
Holder-Egger  has  tracked  six  of  the  rest  to  spurious  works  of  the  Fathers  here 
named  ;  but  even  his  industry  has  not  been  able  to  indentify  the  remaining  two. 


The  Bitter  Cry  of  a  Subject  Friar.  97 

there  shall  be  no  lack  of  the  devil's  birdlime.'  Again  the  poet 
saith,  'Wouldst  thou  define  or  know  what  woman  is?  She  is 
glittering  mud,  a  stinking  rose,  sweet  poison,  ever  leaning  towards 
that  which  is  forbidden  her.'  And  another  poet,  '  Woman  is 
adamant,  pitch,  buckthorn,  f  a  rough  thistle,  a  clinging  burr,  a 
stinging  wasp,  a  burning  nettle.'  And  yet  another,  'Man  hath 
three  joys — praise,  wisdom,  and  glory  :  which  three  things  are 
overthrown  and  ruined  by  woman's  art ' :  and  Augustine  saith, 
'  As  oil  feedeth  the  flame  of  a  lamp,  so  doth  a  woman's  conversa- 
tion feed  the  fire  of  lust.'  And  Isidore, '  As  the  green  grass 
groweth  by  the  waterside,  so  also  groweth  concupiscence  by 
looking  upon  women.'  And  John  Chrysostom  :  '  What  else  is 
woman  but  a  foe  to  friendship,  an  inevitable  penance,  a  necessary 
evil,  a  natural  temptation,  a  coveted  calamity,  a  domestic  peril, 
a  pleasant  harm,  the  nature  of  evil  painted  over  with  the  colours 
of  good  :  wherefore  it  is  a  sin  to  desert  her,  but  a  torment  to  keep 
her.'  And  Augustine  :  '  Woman  was  evil  from  the  beginning, 
a  gate  of  death,  a  disciple  of  the  serpent,  the  devil's  accomplice, 
a  fount  of  deception,  a  dogstar  to  godly  labours,  rust  corrupting 
the  saints ;  whose  perilous  face  hath  overthrown  such  as  had 
already  become  almost  angels.'  Likewise  Origen  :  '  Lo,  woman 
is  the  head  of  sin,  a  weapon  of  the  devil,  expulsion  from  Paradise, 
mother  of  guilt,  corruption  of  the  ancient  law.' "  To  this  whole 
page  Salimbene  has  affixed  the  heading  "  Here  the  author  shows 
that  women  are  to  be  avoided  :  see  below  folio  323."  And  on 
that  folio  (p.  270)  he  subjoins  another  string  of  the  same  or 
similar  quotations,  with  the  addition  of  one  (genuine,  alas  !  this 
time)  from  St.  Augustine.  "  Among  all  the  Christian's  battles  the 
sorest  are  the  struggles  of  chastity,  wherein  is  continual  conflict 
and  seldom  victory"  :  a  warning  which  is  enforced  by  the  tale  of 
St.  Chrysanthus  and  his  temptations. 

We  see  then  that,  in  spite  of  all  Salimbene's  varied  interests 
and  thoroughly  human  point  of  view,  even  in  spite  of  his  little 
religious  idylls,  there  was  one  hiatus  in  his  sympathies.  He 
might  have  thousands  of  women  under  his  spiritual  guidance  ;  he 
might  strike  up  piquant  and  dangerous  Platonic  friendships 
with  one  or  two  ;  but  his  very  profession  shut  him  off*  from  that 
free  and  natural  social  intercourse  without  which  neither  sex  can 
really  understand  the  other. 

"  For,  trusteth  wel,  it  is  impossible 
That  any  clerk  wol  speke  good  of  wyves, 
(But  if  it  be  of  hooly  Seintes  lyves), 
Ne  of  noon  other  wommaii  never  the  mo." 

Chaucer,  Cant.  Tales,  D.  688. 

t  From  which  a  sort  of  Black  Draught  was  concocted  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

H 


Chapter  IX. 
Convent  Friendships. 

SALIMBENE  was  eminently  a  sociable  man,  and  he  has  much 
to  tell  us  of  his  friends.  Many  such  descriptions  will 
come  later  on  in  other  contexts,  but  it  will  be  well  to  collect  in 
this  chapter  such  scattered  notices  as  may  give  an  idea  of  the 
cheerful  side  of  Franciscan  life,  in  contrast  to  the  troubles  and 
discontents  to  which  he  so  frequently  alludes. 

The  Friars  were  still,  until  some  time  after  his  death,  the  most 
real  intellectual  and  moral  force  in  Christendom.  All  the  great 
Schoolmen  of  this  period  were  Friars  ;  all  or  nearly  all  the  great 
preachers ;  and  the  movement  gave  a  great  stimulus  to  poetry 
and  to  art.  Salimbene  found  in  his  Order  full  scope  for  his  love 
of  travel,  his  eager  (if  somewhat  random)  curiosity,  and  his 
passion  for  music.  All  his  closest  friends  seem  to  have  been 
musicians ;  and  he  has  left  us  delightful  portraits  of  these 
minstrels  of  God.  (181)  "Brother  Henry  of  Pisa  was  a  comely 
man,  yet  of  middle  stature,  free-handed,  courteous,  liberal,  and 
ready.  He  knew  well  how  to  converse  with  all,  condescending 
and  conforming  himself  to  each  man's  manners,  gaining  the 
favour  both  of  his  own  brethren  and  of  secular  persons,  which 
is  given  but  to  few.  Moreover,  he  was  a  preacher  of  great  weight 
and  favour  with  both  clergy  and  people.  Again,  he  was  skilled 
to  write,  to  miniate  (which  some  call  illuminate)^  for  that  the 
book  is  illuminated  with  the  scarlet  minium),^  to  write  music, 
to  compose  most  sweet  and  delightful  songs,  both  in  harmony 
and  in  plain-song.  He  was  a  marvellous  singer  ;  he  had  a  great 
and  sonorous  voice,  so  that  he  filled  the  whole  choir ;  but  he 
had  also  a  flute-like  treble,  very  high  and  sharp  ;  sweet,  soft, 
and  delightful  beyond  measure.  He  was  my  Gustos  in  the 
Custody  of  Siena,  and  my  master  of  song  in  the  days  of  Pope 
Gregory  IX.  Moreover  he  was  a  man  of  good  manners  and 
devoted  to  God  and  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  Blessed  Mary 
Magdalene  ;  and  no  wonder,  for  the  church  of  his  contrada  at 
Pisa  was  dedicated  to  this  saint.      Having  heard  a  certain  maid- 


Convent  Friendships.  99 

servant  tripping  through  the  cathedral  church  of  Pisa  and  singing 
in  the  vulgar  tongue, 

"  If  thou  carest  not  for  me, 
I  will  care  no  more  for  thee," 

he  made  then,  after  the  pattern  of  that  song,  words  and  music  of 
this  hymn  following  : — 

"  Christ  Divine,  Christ  of  mine, 
Christ  the  King  and  Lord  of  all."  2 

Moreover,  because  when  he  was  Guardian  and  laj  sick  on  his 
bed  in  the  infirmary  of  the  convent  of  Siena,  he  could  write  no 
music,  therefore  he  called  me,  and  I  was  the  first  to  note  one  of 
his  airs  as  he  sang  it."  Salimbene  goes  on  to  enumerate  other 
compositions  of  Brother  Henry's,  the  last  of  which  reminds  him 
of  another  musical  friend.  "  Now  the  second  air  of  these  words, 
that  is,  the  harmony,  was  composed  by  Brother  Vita  of  the  city 
of  Lucca,  and  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor,  the  best  singer  in 
the  world  of  his  own  time  in  both  kinds,  namely,  in  harmony  and 
in  plain-song.  He  had  a  thin  or  subtle  voice,  and  one  delightful 
to  hear.  There  was  none  so  severe  but  that  he  heard  him  gladly. 
He  Mould  sing  before  Bishops,  Archbishops,  and  the  Pope  him- 
self; and  gladly  they  would  hear  him.  If  any  spoke  when 
Brother  Vita  sang,  immediately  men  would  cry  out  with  Ecclesi- 
asticus,  *  Hinder  not  music'  Moreover,  whenever  a  nightingale 
sang  in  hedge  or  thicket,  it  would  cease  at  the  voice  of  his  song, 
listening  most  earnestly  to  him,  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot,  and 
resuming  its  strain  when  he  had  ceased  ;  so  that  bird  and  friar 
would  sing  in  turn,  each  warbling  his  own  sweet  strains.  So 
courteous  was  he  in  this  that  he  never  excused  himself  when  he 
was  asked  to  sing,  pleading  that  he  had  strained  his  voice,  or 
was  hoarse  from  cold,  or  for  any  other  reason  ;  wherefore  none 
could  apply  to  him  those  oft-quoted  verses  [of  Horace],  'All 
singers  have  this  fault,  that  they  can  never  be  brought  to  sing 
when  they  are  begged  to  perform  among  friends.'  He  had  a 
mother  and  sister  who  were  delightful  singers.  He  composed 
this  sequence,  *  Ave  mundi^'  both  words  and  air.  He  composed 
many  hymns  in  harmony,  wherein  the  Secular  clergy  specially 
delight.  He  was  my  master  of  song  in  his  own  city  of  Lucca. 
Again,  the  Lord  Thomas  of  Capua  having  written  that  sequence, 
*  Let  the  Virgin  Mother  rejoice,'  and  having  begged  Brother  Henry 
of  Pisa  to  compose  an  air  to  it,  he  composed  one  delightful  and 
fair  and  sweet  to  hear,  whereto  Brother  Vita  composed  the 
secondary  air,  or  harmony ;  for  whenever  he  found  any  plain- 


lOO  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

chant  of  Brother  Henrj  he  would  gladly  compose  a  harmony 
thereto.  Moreover,  the  Lord  Philip,  Archbishop  of  Ravenna, 
took  this  Brother  Vita  to  be  of  his  household,  both  because  he 
was  of  his  own  countxy,  and  because  he  was  a  Friar  Minor, 
and  because  he  knew  so  well  to  sing  and  write.  He  died  at 
Milan,  and  was  buried  in  the  Convent  of  the  Friars  Minor.  He 
was  slender  and  lean  of  body,  and  taller  of  stature  than  Brother 
Henry.  His  voice  was  fitter  for  the  chamber  than  for  the  choir. 
Oft-times  he  left  the  Order,  and  oft-times  returned  :  yet  he  never 
left  us  but  to  enter  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict ;  and  when  he 
wished  to  return.  Pope  Gregory  IX  was  ever  indulgent  to  him, 
both  for  St.  Francis's  sake,  and  for  the  sweetness  of  his  song. 
For  once  he  sang  so  enchantingly  that  a  certain  nun,  hearing  his 
song,  threw  herself  down  from  a  window  to  follow  him ;  but  this 
might  not  be,  for  she  broke  her  leg  with  the  fall.  This  was  no 
such  hearkening  as  is  written  in  the  last  chapter  of  the  Song  of 
Songs,  *  Thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gardens,  the  friends  hearken  : 
make  me  hear  thy  voice.'  Truly,  therefore,  spake  Brother  Giles 
of  Perugia  (not  that  he  was  of  Perugia,  but  that  there  he  lived 
and  ended  his  days — a  man  given  to  ecstasies  and  rapt  in  divine 
contemplation,  the  fourth  Brother  admitted  to  our  Order,  after 
St.  Francis — ),  truly  he  spake,  '  It  is  a  great  grace  of  God  to  have 
no  graces  at  all,'  speaking  here  of  graces  not  given  freely  by 
God,  but  acquired,  by  reason  whereof  some  men  are  frequently 
led  into  evil."  The  celebrated  Helinand  of  Froidmont,  it  may 
be  noted,  speaks  still  more  strongly  of  the  dangers  of  music  to 
the    Keligious,    "whether  of    instruments,    or   of    the   human 

voice as  Orpheus  with  his  lute  followed   his   desire 

even  to  hell.     In  further  proof  whereof,  mark  that  thou  shalt 

scarce  find  a  man  of  light  voice  and  grave  life I  have 

seen  numberless  men  and  women  whose  life  was  so  much  the 
more  evil  as  their  voice  was  more  sweet."  Benvenuto,  again, 
while  noting  how  Casella  too  belied  Horace's  sarcasm  by  singing 
without  delay  at  Dante's  request,  and  while  laying  stress  on  the 
sovereign  virtues  of  good  music,  speaks  of  the  danger  of 
elaborate  church  music,  "  wherefore  Athanasius,  to  avoid  vanity, 

forbade   the  custom  of   singing  in   church, and  a 

certain  good  and  prudent  man  who  had  the  care  of  a  great  con- 
vent of  nuns  forbade  them  to  celebrate  their  church  services  with 
song."'  This  Puritan  estimate  of  song  was  far  more  common 
before  the  Reformation  than  is  generally  realised  ;  and  even 
St.  Francis  was  believed  by  many  to  have  forbidden  church 
music. 

But  to  return  to  Brother  Henry.     "  In  truth  Brother  Henry  of 


Convent  Friendships,  loi 

Pisa  was  my  intimate  friend,  and  such  as  he  of  whom  the  Wise 
Man  saith  *  A  man  amiable  in  society  shall  be  more  friendly  than 
a  brother ' ;  for  he  himself  also  had  a  brother  in  the  Order  of  my 
age,  and  I  a  brother  of  his  age  ;  yet  he  loved  me  far  more,  as  he 
said,  than  his  own  blood-brother.  And  whereas  Ecclesiasticus 
saith  '  The  token  of  a  good  heart  and  of  a  good  countenance  thou 
slialt  hardly  find,  and  with  labour,'  yet  this  could  in  no  wise 
be  said  of  him.  He  was  made  Minister  of  Greece,  which  is  the 
Province  of  Romania,  and  gave  me  a  letter  of  obedience,  whereby, 
if  it  pleased  me,  I  might  go  to  him  and  be  of  his  Province,  with 
a  companion  of  my  own  choice.  Moreover,  he  promised  that 
he  would  give  me  a  Bible  and  many  other  books.  But  I  went 
not,  for  he  departed  this  life  in  the  selfsame  year  wherein  he 
went  thither.  He  died  at  a  certain  Provincial  Chapter,  celebrated 
at  Corinth,  where  also  he  was  buried  and  hath  found  rest  in  peace. 
Moreover  he  foretold  the  future  in  the  hearing  of  the  Brethren 
who  were  in  that  Chapter,  saying,  '  Now  are  we  dividing  the 
books  of  departed  Brethren  ;  but  it  may  be  that  within  a  brief 
while  our  own  too  shall  be  divided.'  And  so  it  came  to  pass  ; 
for  in  that  same  Chapter  his  books  were  divided." 

Though  Brother  Henry  worked  no  miracles  himself,  yet  he  had 
long  been  of  the  household  of  the  miracle-working  Patriarch  of 
Antioch.  The  reader  will  not  fail  to  notice  how  many  of 
Salimbene's  friends  and  acquaintances  were  distinguished  in 
life  or  in  death  by  these  thaumaturgic  powers.  From  the  matter- 
of-fact  frequency  with  which  he  notes  the  fact,  one  might  almost 
fancy  that  he  half  expected  the  same  of  his  own  bones,  when 
he  should  come  in  his  turn  to  lie  in  the  "  good  thick  stupefying 
incense-smoke"  of  the  choir  at  Montefalcone  or  at  Reggio.* 
Miracles  were  in  the  air ;  the  earlier  volumes  of  Wadding  teem 
with  notices  of  obscure  but  wonder-working  friars.  In  many 
cases,  their  very  names  had  been  forgotten  within  a  century 
or  two  of  their  death  ;  only  a  vague  memory  was  cherished 
among  the  Brethren  that  "  a  saint  is  buried  in  our  convent."* 

Another  intimate  friend  was  Brother  Roland  of  Pavia,  humble 
and  eloquent,  of  whom  Salimbene  relates  one  miracle  of  the 
stereotyped  pattern.  There  is,  however,  far  more  individuality 
in  (556)  "  Brother  Nicholas  of  Montefeltro  .  .  .  who  was  many 
years  Minister  of  Hungary,  and  afterwards  for  many  years,  even 
to  the  day  of  his  death,  he  dwelt  in  subjection  in  the  convent 
of  Bologna.     He  was  humble  beyond  all  men  whom  I  have  ever 

*  A  miracle-working  Brother  Salimbene  was  in  fact  buried  at  Rodi ;  but  lie  can 
scarcely  be  our  chronicler  (Eubel.  Provinciale,  p.  53). 


I02  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

seen  in  this  world.  He  neither  thought  nor  would  have  others 
to  think  that  he  was  anything  at  all  :  so  that,  when  any  man 
would  do  him  reverence,  forthwith  he  would  fall  to  the  ground 
and  kiss  his  feet,  if  he  might.  When  the  refectory  bell  was  rung 
for  meals,  it  was  he  who  came  first  to  pour  water  into  the  lavatory 
for  the  Brethren's  hands :  and  when  strange  Brethren  came, 
he  would  hasten  first  of  all  the  convent  to  wash  their  feet ;  and 
though  in  appearance  he  was  ill-fitted  to  perform  such  oflSces, 
for  he  was  aged  and  corpulent,  yet  his  charity  and  humility  and 
holiness  and  courtesy  and  liberality  and  readiness  made  him 
skilful  and  pleasant  and  proper  thereto.  He  lieth  buried 
honourably  in  the  church  of  the  Friars  Minor  of  Bologna.  After 
his  death  God  showed  forth  no  miracle  through  him,  for  that  he 
had  prayed  God  that  he  might  work  none  ;  as  also  that  most 
holy  Brother  Giles  of  Perugia  had  besought  God  to  show  forth 
no  miracles  on  his  behalf  after  his  death.  (This  was  the 
Brother  Giles,  whose  life  Brother  Leo,  one  of  the  three  special 
companions  of  St.  Francis,  wrote  at  some  length.)  But  in  his 
lifetime  Brother  Nicholas  wrought  three  miracles— or  God 
through  him — which  are  worthy  to  be  related.  The  first  was 
that  the  Guardian  of  a  certain  convent  had  laid  upon  a  certain 
young  friar,  who  was  also  a  clerk  and  sub-deacon,  the  duty  of 
cooking  the  Brethren's  soup  or  pottage  for  God's  sake,  until  the 
cook,  who  was  absent,  should  return.  He  then  obeyed  in  all 
humility  ;  but  by  evil  fortune  his  breviary  fell  into  the  pot  and 
was  utterly  sodden  with  the  pottage.  Since  therefore  the  book 
was  thus  foully  destroyed,  and  the  Brother  wept  and  wailed, — 
for  this  was  his  greatest  cause  of  grief,  that  the  book  was 
borrowed — Brother  Nicholas  hearing  this,  and  willing  to  console 
him,  said,  '  See,  son,  weep  no  more,  but  lend  me  the  book,  which 
I  need  awhile  for  saying  Hours.'  And  having  taken  the  book, 
he  went  apart  and  poured  forth  his  soul  in  prayer ;  and  behold, 
God  restored  it  to  its  former  beauty,  so  that  no  spot  or  blemish 
appeared  thereon.  And  the  Brother  who  had  before  wept  so 
bitterly  at  the  destruction  of  the  book,  seeing  this,  was  comforted 
and  filled  with  admiration,  and  gave  praise  to  God."  The  next 
miracle  of  Brother  Nicholas  was  of  a  more  commonplace  character ; 
but  the  third  is  truly  original.  "  There  was  a  certain  youth  in  the 
convent  of  Bologna  who  was  called  Brother  Guido.  .  He  was  wont 
to  snore  so  mightily  in  his  sleep  that  no  man  could  rest  in  the  same 
house  with  him  ;  and,  what  is  more,  he  made  their  waking-hours 
as  hideous  as  their  sleep-time :  wherefore  he  was  set  to  sleep  in 
a  shed  among  the  wood  and  straw  :  yet  even  so  the  Brethren 
could  not  escape  him,  for  the  sound  of  that  accursed  rumbling 


Convent  Friendships.  103 

echoed  throughout  the  whole  convent.  So  all  the  priests  and 
discreet  Brethren  gathered  together  in  the  chamber  of  Brother 
John  of  Parma,  the  Minister-General,  and  told  him  of  this  boj, 
how  he  must  be  cast  utterly  forth  from  the  Order  by  reason  of 
this  monstrous  fault ;  and  I  myself  was  there  present.  And  it  was 
decreed  by  a  formal  sentence  that  he  should  be  sent  back  to  his 
mother,  who  had  deceived  the  Order,  since  she  knew  all  this  of 
her  son  before  he  was  received  among  us.  Yet  was  he  not  sent 
back  forthwith ;  which  was  the  Lord's  doing,  Who  purposed  to 
work  a  miracle  through  Brother  Nicholas.  For  this  holy  man, 
considering  within  himself  that  the  boy  must  needs  be  cast  out 
through  a  defect  of  nature,  and  without  guilt  on  his  own  part, 
called  the  lad  daily  about  the  hour  of  dawn  to  come  and  serve 
him  at  his  Mass :  and  at  the  end  of  the  Mass,  the  boy  would 
kneel  at  his  bidding  behind  the  altar,  hoping  to  receive  some 
grace  of  him.  Then  would  Brother  Nicholas  touch  the  boy's 
face  and  nose  with  his  hands,  desiring,  by  God's  gifts,  to  bestow 
on  him  the  boon  of  health,  and  bidding  him  reveal  this  secret  to 
no  man.  In  brief,  the  boy  was  suddenly  and  wholly  healed  ; 
and  thenceforth  he  slept  in  peace  and  quiet,  like  any  dormouse, 
without  further  discomfort  to  the  Brethren.  Afterwards  he  was 
transferred  to  the  Province  of  Rome,  where  he  became  a  priest 
and  confessor  and  preacher,  most  serviceable  and  profitable  to 
the  Brethren,  ever  thankfully  remembering  the  grace  bestowed 
on  him  through  the  merits  and  prayers  of  the  blessed  Nicholas 
by  God,  Who  is  blessed  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen." 

Here  again  is  one  more  Franciscan  of  the  true  type.  (429) 
"  Brother  Thomas  of  Pavia  was  a  holy  and  good  man,  and  a 
great  clerk.  He  had  grown  old  in  the  Order  ;  a  man  of  wisdom 
and  discretion,  and  of  good  and  sober  counsel.  He  was  a  friendly 
man,  ready,  humble,  and  kindly,  and  devoted  to  God,  and  a 
gracious  and  weighty  preacher.  He  wrote  a  great  chronicle, 
for  he  was  very  full  and  prolix  ;  he  made  also  a  treatise  of 
sermons  and  a  great  and  most  diffuse  work  of  theology,  which 
for  its  size  he  named  *  The  Ox.'  He  reformed  the  Province  of 
Tuscany.  He  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  for  I  lived  with  him 
many  years  in  the  Convent  of  Ferrara ;  may  his  soul,  of  God's 
mercy,  rest  in  peace  !  Amen."  Many  of  Salimbene's  other 
friends  and  acquaintances  were  distinguished  authors  of  their 
time :  Brother  Benvenuto  of  Modena,  a  Greek  scholar  and  a 
textual  critic  of  the  Bible,  Master  WilHam  of  Auxerre,  to  whom 
the  more  famous  Durandus  was  deeply  indebted  ;  Brother  Wil- 
liam of  the  Friars  Preachers,  "  with  whom  1  was  familiar :  for 
he  was  a  humble  and  courteous  man,  though  small  of  stature  "  ; 


104  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  again,  "  Brother  William  Britto  of  the  Friars  Minor,  whose 
Book  is  remembered  of  men ;  and  who  in  stature  was  like  unto 
that  other  Brother  William  aforesaid,  jet  not  in  manners ;  for 
he  seemed  rather  wrathful  and  impatient,  as  is  the  nature  of  men 
who  are  small  of  stature  :  wherefore  the  poet  saith  : 

'  Seldom  is  tho  small  man  humble,  seldom  bath  the  long  man  reason  ; 
Seldom  shalt  thou  find  a  red-head  but  his  troth  will  smack  of  treason."* 

Nearly  all  the  portraits  of  good  friars  in  this  chronicle  belong 
to  the  same  general  type : — learned  men  and  busy  workers  of 
the  first  or  second  generation,  who  had  grown  grey  in  the  Order, 
and  whom  our  friend  knew  in  the  tranquil  and  honoured  evening 
of  their  life.  Here  and  there,  however,  we  have  glimpses  of 
wilder  natures  in  the  ferment  of  their  first  overwhelming  sense 
of  sin,  and  in  all  the  agonies  of  conversion.  There  is  the  Lord 
Bernardo  Bafolo  (1285 — 364^,  a  knight  of  great  wealth  and 
renown,  who  entered  the  Order  in  its  earliest  days,  and  sought 
to  share  the  reproach  of  Christ  by  causing  his  own  servants  to 
scourge  him  round  the  city  at  a  horse's  tail.  As  he  passed  thus 
by  the  portico  of  S.  Pietro,  "  where  the  knights  are  wont  to  sit 
and  make  merry  in  their  hours  of  ease,  they  were  pricked  to  the 
heart,  saying  with  groans  '  In  truth  we  have  seen  marvels  this 
day  '  ;  and  many  were  goaded  by  his  example  to  leave  the  world." 
Two  usurers,  brethren  by  blood,  restored  their  ill-gotten  gains 
and  joined  the  Franciscans ;  and  one  of  them  caused  himself 
to  be  scourged  likewise  all  round  the  city,  with  a  bag  of  money 
round  his  neck.  Bernardo  Bafolo,  whose  father  had  distinguished 
himself  at  the  storming  of  Constantinople  in  1204,  did  not  leave 
his  own  knightly  courage  behind  him  when  he  took  the  cowl  : 
for  "  when  he  was  a  Friar  Minor,  and  the  men  of  Parma  had 
marched  with  the  Emperor's  army  against  Milan,  he  ran  to  the 
fire  which  had  been  kindled  in  the  Borgo  di  Santa  Cristina  ;  and 
standing  on  the  top  of  a  burning  house,  he  cut  away  with  an  axe 
and  cast  down  on  all  sides  the  blazing  timbers,  that  no  other 
houses  might  take  fire.  And  all  men  saw  him  and  commended 
him  that  he  had  wrought  prudently  and  valiantly ;  and  '  it  was 
reputed  him  unto  justice,  to  generation  and  generation  for  ever- 
more ' :  for  this  doughty  deed  of  his  hath  lived  many  years  in 
men's  memories.  After  this  he  crossed  to  the  Holy  Land,  where 
he  ended  his  days  with  all  praise  in  the  Order  of  St.  Francis. 
May  his  soul  by  God's  mercy  rest  in  peace,  for  he  began  well 
and  ended  well." 

*  Vix  humilis  parvus  ;  vix  longus  cum  ratione ; 
Vix  reperitur  homo  ruffus  sine  proditione  (233). 


Convent  Friendships.  105 

But  the  greatest  by  far  of  Salimbene's  friends  was  John  of 
Parma,  a  man  of  very  considerable  intellectual  force,  and  the 
Minister- General  who  trod  most  closely  of  all  in  the  steps  of  St. 
Francis.  For  the  life  of  this  remarkable  man  Salimbene  is  by 
far  our  fullest  authority  :  but  he  writes  of  him  in  so  prolix  and 
rambling  a  fashion  (296  foil.),  and  John's  life  has  so  often  been 
told  elsewhere,  that  1  will  abridge  it  considerably  here.  His 
father  was  called  Albert  the  Fowler ;  for  he  loved  fowling  and 
made  it  his  business.  But  John  owed  his  education  to  an  uncle, 
priest  and  Guardian  of  the  Lazar-house  at  Parma,  who  sent  him 
to  the  university.  There  he  fell  into  an  apparently  fatal  illness, 
"  but  one  day  he  was  comforted  in  the  Lord  and  said  in  the 
bystanders'  heai'ing,  '  The  Lord  chastising  hath  chastised  me, 
but  He  hath  not  delivered  me  over  to  death.'*  After  this  he 
recovered  suddenly  of  his  sickness  and  began  to  study  with 
fervour,  and  walked  most  manfully  in  the  way  of  the  Lord  until 
he  became  a  Friar  Minor  ;  and  then  he  began  to  go  on  most 
abundantly  from  virtue  to  virtue  and  was  full  of  power  and 
wisdom,  and  God's  grace  was  with  him.  He  was  of  middle 
stature  or  rather  less ;  he  was  shapely  in  all  his  limbs,  and  of  a 
strong  complexion  and  sound  and  stout  to  bear  labours,  both 
in  walking  and  in  study.  His  face  was  as  an  angel's  face,  gracious 
and  ever  bright  of  cheer  :  he  was  free  and  liberal  and  courtly 
and  charitable,  humble  and  mild  and  kindly  and  patient  ; 
devoted  to  God  and  fervent  in  prayer,  pious  and  gentle  and 
compassionate.  He  sang  Mass  daily,  and  so  devoutly  that  those 
who  stood  by  felt  some  of  his  own  grace  :  he  would  preach  so 
fervently  and  well  both  to  the  clergy  and  to  the  Brethren  that, 
as  I  have  oft-times  seen,  he  provoked  many  of  his  hearers  to 
tears  :  he  had  a  ready  tongue  that  never  stumbled,  for  he  was 
most  learned  also,  having  been  a  good  grammarian  and  a  Master 
in  Logic  while  yet  in  the  world  ;  and  in  our  Order  he  was  a  great 
theologian  and  disputator.  He  was  a  mirror  and  an  example 
to  all  that  beheld  him  ;  for  his  whole  life  was  full  of  honour  and 
saintliness,  and  good  and  perfect  manners  :  he  was  gracious 
both  to  God  and  man  :  learned  in  music  and  a  good  singer. 
Never  saw  I  so  swift  a  writer,  in  so  fair  and  true  a  hand ;  for 
his  characters  were  exceeding  easy  to  read.  He  was  a  most 
noble  composer  in  the  polished  style  ;  and  whensoever  he  would, 
he  enriched  his  letters  with  many  wise  sentences.  He  was  the 
first  Minister-General  who  began  to  go  round  the  whole  Order 

*  Cf .  Newman— "All  through  (my  fever  in  Sicily)  I  had  a  confident  feeling 
I  should  recover  ....  and  ^ave  as  a  reason  .  .  .  .  '  I  thought  God  had  som& 
work  for  me.'  " — Letters,  vol  i.,  p.  414. 


io6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  visit  province  bj  province,  which  had  not  been  the  custom 
aforetime,  except  that  Brother  Aymo  once  went  to  England,  which 
was  his  native  land.  But  when  Brother  Bonagratia  would  have 
thus  visited  the  Order  after  the  example  of  John  of  Parma, 
the  travail  was  more  than  he  could  bear,  wherefore  he  fell 
sick  unto  death  within  four  years  of  his  Generalship,  and  ended 
his  life  at  Avignon.  Moreover  Brother  John  of  Parma  gave 
licence  to  Brother  Bonaventura  of  Bagnorrea*  to  lecture  at  Paris, 
which  he  had  never  as  yet  done  anywhere :  for  he  was  but  a 
Bachelor  and  not  yet  Master.  Moreover,  at  another  time,  during 
the  Chapter  of  Metz,  the  Provincials  and  Custodes  said  to  Brother 
John:  '  Father,  let  us  make  some  Constitutions.'  \_i.e.  bye-laws.] 
But  he  answered  and  said,  *  Let  us  not  multiply  our  Constitutions, 
but  let  us  keep  well  such  as  we  have.  For  know  that  the  Poor 
Brethrenf  complain  of  you  that  ye  make  a  multitude  of  Constitu- 
tions and  lay  them  on  the  neck  of  your  subjects,  and  ye  who 
make  them  will  not  keep  them.'  For  he  looked  more  to  a 
Superior's  hand  than  to  his  tongue  :  as  we  read  of  Julius  Caesar, 
who  never  said  to  his  soldiers  '  Go  ye  and  do  that,'  but  '  Let  us 
go  and  do  it,'  ever  associating  himself  with  them."  He  also 
introduced  uniformity  into  the  Friars'  services  :  for  hitherto 
they  had  made  many  changes  each  after  his  own  fancy  "  either 
contrary  to  the  rubrics  or  altogether  beside  them,  as  I  have  seen 
with  mine  own  eyes." 

"  Moreover,  while  he  was  Lector  at  Naples,  and  not  yet 
Minister-General,  he  passed  through  Bologna,  and  sat  dowu 
one  day  to  meat  in  the  guesten-hall  with  his  companions  and 
with  other  strangers :  then  certain  Brethren  came  and  took 
him  by  force  from  the  table,  that  they  might  bring  him  to  eat 
in  the  infirmary.|  But  he,  seeing  that  his  companion  was  left 
uninvited,  turned  back  and  said,  *  I  will  eat  nowhere  without 
my  companion '  :  which  was  thought  great  boorishness  on  the 
part  of  the  hosts,  and  the  greatest  courtesy  and  fidelity  on  Brother 
John's  part.  Another  day,  when  he  was  General  and  would 
fain  find  a  moment's  leisure,  he  came  to  the  convent  of  Ferrara  : 
and,  considering  himself  that  the  same  Brethren  were  always 
invited  to  eat  with  him — that  is,  the  same  who  had  dined  with 
him,  were  at  supper  also,  and  the  same  to-day,  the  same  to-morrow 
— he  saw  that  our  Guardian  was  a  respecter  of  persons,  which 
displeased  him.     So  when  Brother  John  was  washing  his  hands 

*  Saint  Bonaventura. 

t  i.e.  the  Spiiituals,  with  whom  he  deeply  sympathized. 

$  Where  the  food  was  always  more  delicate. 


Convent  Friendships.  107 

one  day  for  supper,  then  the  Brother  on  service  asked  of  the 
Guardian,  '  Whom  shall  I  invite  ?  ' ;  and  he  answered,  '  Take 
Brother  Jacopo  of  Pa  via  and  Brother  A  vanzio  and  such  an  one  and 
such  an  one.'  Now  these  four  had  already  washed  their  hands  in 
expectation,  and  stood  ready,  behind  the  General's  back,  as  be 
had  well  seen  from  the  first :  wherefore  he  took  up  his  parable, 
inspired  perhaps  by  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  fervour  of  his  spirit, 
and  cried,  *  Yea,  yea  1  take  Brother  John  of  Pavia,  take  Brother 
Avanzio,  take  this  one  and  that  other ! — take  ten  stripes  for  thy- 
self, for  that  is  a  mere  goose's  song  1 '  So  they  who  had  been 
invited  to  the  meal  were  confounded  and  put  to  shame  when  they 
heard  this  :  and  the  Guardian  was  no  less  ashamed,  saying  to  the 
Minister,  '  Father,  it  was  for  thine  honour  that  1  invited  these 
to  bear  thee  company,  since  I  hold  them  the  most  worthy.'  The 
Minister  answered,  '  Saith  not  the  Scripture,  "  When  thou  makest 
a  feast,  call  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame,  and  the  blind  :  and 
thou  shalt  be  blessed"  ?  (and  I  heard  all  this,  for  I  stood  by  his 
side).  Then  said  the  friar  on  service,  *  Whom  then  shall  I  ask  ?  ' 
'  Invite,'  said  the  Guardian,  '  as  the  Minister  shall  bid  thee.' 
Then  said  he,  '  Go,  call  me  the  poor  Brethren  of  the  convent ; 
for  this  office  [of  eating]  is  one  wherein  all  know  enough  to  bear 
their  Minister  company.  So  that  friar  on  service  went  to  the 
refectory,  and  said  to  the  feeblest  and  poorest  Brethren,  who 
seldom  ate  outside  the  refectory,  '  The  General  inviteth  you  to 
supper :  I  bid  you  on  his  part  to  bear  him  company  forthwith '  : 
and  so  it  was.  For  Brother  John,  whenever  he  came  to  some 
fresh  convent,  would  ever  have  the  poor  Brethren  to  eat  with  him, 
or  else  all  together,  or  else  these  and  those  by  turns,  that  they 
might  have  some  refreshment  by  his  coming.  And  thus  he 
would  ordain  before  his  guest-table  was  full,  that  is,  before  he 
went  into  the  refectory  to  eat,  which  he  ever  did  forthwith  after 
he  was  refreshed  from  his  journey  and  his  travail,  when  he  stayed 
in  any  convent.  So  Brother  John  was  no  respecter  of  persons, 
nor  bare  he  private  love  for  any,  but  he  was  most  courteous  and 
free  at  table,  so  that,  if  divers  sorts  of  good  wine  were  set  before 
him,  he  would  cause  equal  portions  to  be  poured  out  for  all,  or 
else  he  would  pour  it  into  a  great  cup,  that  every  man  might 
drink  alike,  which  was  esteemed  by  all  to  be  an  excellent  courtesy 
and  charity.  Moreover,  even  when  he  was  Minister-General, 
whensoever  the  bell  was  rung  for  cleaning  the  vegetables  or  herbs 
for  the  table,  he  would  come  to  the  convent -workers  and  labour 
with  the  other  Brethren,  as  I  have  oft-times  seen  with  mine  own 
eyes  :  and,  being  familiarly  known  to  him,  I  said  to  him, '  Father, 
ye  do  as  the  Lord  taught :  "  He  that  is  the  leader  among  you, 


io8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

let  him  be  as  he  that  serveth." '  And  he  answered,  ' "  So  it 
becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  justice,"  that  is,  perfect  humility.' 
Moreover  he  fulfilled  his  church  services  both  nightly  and  daily, 
and  especially  Mattins  and  Vespers  and  the  Conventual  Mass, 
and  whatsoever  the  Cantor  laid  upon  him  he  obeyed  at  once, 
either  beginning  the  antiphons  or  chantirg  lessons  and  responses 
or  singing  conventual  masses.  In  short,  he  was  full  of  all  good 
deeds :  he  would  fain  write  with  his  own  hands  even  when  he 
was  a  General,  that  he  might  by  his  labour  earn  wherewithal  to 
be  clothed  :  but  the  Brethren  would  not  suffer  this,  for  they  saw 
him  busied  with  the  service  of  the  Order,  and  therefore  they 
gladly  supplied  him  with  all  things  necessary." 

But  John,  as  will  be  seen  in  Chapter  XIII,  was  a  Joachite  ; 
he  apparently  did  nothing  to  punish  the  rash  author  of  the  "  In- 
troduction to  the  Eternal  Gospel "  ;  and  the  scandal  of  the  book 
fell  in  a  great  measure  upon  him  also.  His  restless  energy  had 
already  worn  out  twelve  secretaries  one  after  the  other :  even 
his  own  iron  frame  and  cheerful  temper  must  have  bent  under 
the  discouraging  drudgery  of  visiting  convent  after  convent  that 
was  drifting  daily  farther  from  the  Founder's  purpose  :*  and,  if 
Salimbene  is  right,  he  met  his  sentence  halfway,  calling  a  special 
General  Chapter  to  tender  his  resignation.  For  a  whole  day  the 
Chapter  refused  to  accept  it,  but  at  last,  "seeing  the  anguish  of 
his  soul,"  they  unwillingly  consented,  and  besought  him  to  name 
his  successor :  "  and  forthwith  he  chose  Brother  Bonaventura, 
saying  that  he  knew  none  better  in  the  whole  Order.  So  Brother 
Bonaventura  held  the  Generalate  for  17  years,  and  did  much 
good."  According  to  Wadding,  it  was  the  Pope  who  had 
insisted  on  this  resignation,  partly  on  account  of  his  Joachism, 
and  partly  because  his  efforts  to  enforce  the  strict  observance  of 
St.  Francis's  precepts  had  exasperated  a  section  of  the  Order  : 
and  John  gladly  obeyed,  alleging  "  his  feebleness,  his  weariness, 
and  his  age."^  Before  his  fall,  John  had  won  golden  opinions 
on  all  sides  :  Salimbene  tells  us  of  the  great  respect  with  which 
he  was  treated  by  princes  so  different  as  the  emperor  Vatatzes ; 
Henry  HI  of  England  ;  and,  "  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes," 
St.  Louis  and  his  brothers.  Even  Popes  and  Cardinals  admired 
him,  in  spite  of  his  Joachism.  The  worldly  Innocent  IV  (304) 
"  loved  him  as  his  own  soul,  and  ever  welcomed  him  with  a  kiss 
on  the  mouth  when  he  came  to  see  him,  and  thought  to  make  him 
a  Cardinal,  but  was  himself  overtaken  by  death."  Alexander  IV 
had   loved   him  also  ;   and  even  now  in  his  disgrace  he  found 

Eowerful  defenders.      St.    Bonaventura   did  indeed  permit   the 
eresy-hunters  to   bait  his  old  master,   and  would   even  have 


Convent  Friendships.  109 

acquiesced  In  his  imprisonment ;  the  disgust  of  the  Spirituals 
at  this  and  other  concessions  to  the  "  relaxed "  party  found 
utterance  in  the  vision  of  blessed  Jacopo  dalla  Massa  {Fioretti 
chap.  48).  It  is  true  that  the  compiler  of  the  Fiorctti  takes 
care,  for  scandal's  sake,  to  suppress  the  great  General's  name : 
but  the  earlier  versions  of  the  vision  in  the  Actus  and  the  Seven 
Tribulations  tell  us  plainly  that  the  bitter  adversary,  with  iron 
nails  like  razors,  who  would  fain  have  torn  John  of  Parma  to 
pieces,  was  no  other  than  Dante's  guide  through  the  twelfth 
Canto  of  the  Paradiso.  John  was  saved — not,  as  in  the  vision, 
by  St.  Francis  stooping  from  heaven,  but  by  the  intervention 
of  Cardinal  Ottobono,  afterwards  Pope  Adrian  V.  He  was 
allowed  to  choose  his  own  place  of  retreat,  and  selected  the 
secluded  hermitage  of  Greccio,  where  St.  Francis  had  spent  one 
Christmas  and  imitated  the  Manger  of  Bethlehem.  Even  in 
this  his  exile,  he  was  still  remembered  at  the  Roman  Court.  (304) 
"  When  Master  Pietro  Ispano''  was  made  first  a  Cardinal  and 
then  presently  Pope  John  XXI,  being  a  great  dialectician  and 
logician  and  disputer  and  theologian,  he  sent  for  Brother  John  of 
Parma,  who  also  had  the  like  qualities.  For  the  Pope  would 
fain  have  had  him  ever  at  his  court,  and  thought  to  make  him 
a  Cardinal ;  but  death  overtook  him  before  he  could  fulfil  his 
purpose ;  for  the  vault  of  his  chamber  fell  upon  him  and  slew 
him."  The  next  Pope,  however,  had  no  less  respect  for  the 
saintly  ex-General.  (302)  "A  long  time  after  [his  retirement], 
Pope  Nicholas  III  took  him  by  the  hand  and  led  him  familiarly 
through  his  palace,  saying  to  him,  *  Since  thou  art  a  man  of  much 
counsel,  were  it  not  better  for  thyself  and  for  thine  Order  that 
thou  shouldst  be  a  Cardinal  here  with  us  at  our  Court,  than  that 
thou  shouldst  follow  the  words  of  fools  who  prophesy  from  their 
own  heart  ? '  So  Brother  John  answered  and  said  to  the  Pope, '  I 
care  nought  for  your  dignities,  for  it  is  sung  in  praise  of  every 
saint  :  "  He  sought  no  glory  of  earthly  dignity,  but  came  to  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven."  As  concerning  counsel  I  say  unto  you 
that  I  could  indeed  give  some  counsel  if  there  were  any  who  would 
hear  me.  But  in  these  days  little  else  is  treated  in  the  Court 
of  Rome  but  wars  and  bufiboneries,  instead  of  matters  which 
concern  the  salvation  of  men's  souls.'  The  Pope,  hearing  this, 
groaned  and  said,  '  We  are  so  accustomed  to  such  things  that 
we  believe  all  that  we  say  and  do  to  be  profitable.'  Then 
answered  Brother  John,  '  And  the  blessed  [Pope]  Gregory,  as  we 
read  in  his  Dialogues,  would  have  sighed  at  such  things.'  So 
Brother  John  was  sent  away  and  returned  to  the  hermitage  of 
Greccio  where  he  was  wont  to  dwell."     Salimbene,  in  spite  of  his 


1 1  o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

personal  aifection,  agreed  with  the  criticism  passed  by  a  fellow- 
friar  on  Brother  John,  that  if  he  could  have  given  up  his  Joachism 
he  might  have  effected  some  real  reform  at  the  Court  of  Rome. 
He  goes  out  of  his  way  to  account  for  John's  clinging  to  the  creed 
even  after  the  shock  dealt  to  it  by  Frederick's  premature  death 
in  1250;  "Some  men  so  cling  to  their  opinions  that  they  are 
ashamed  afterwards  to  retract,  lest  they  should  seem  liars :  and 
therefore  they  cannot  change  their  minds"  (303).  He  himself 
once  volunteered  to  go  to  Greccio  and  attempt  to  convert  his 
old  master :  but  he  is  unwoutedly  reticent  as  to  the  issue  of  this 
journey.  Later  on,  however,  he  gives  us  two  anecdotes  of  the 
holy  man's  life  there :  (310)  a  pair  of  wildfowl  built  their  nest 
and  hatched  their  brood  under  his  study  desk ;  and  again,  an 
angel  came  and  served  for  him  at  Mass  when  the  poor  little 
scholar,  who  should  have  served,  had  overslept  himself.  "  Much 
more  good,"  continues  Salimbene,  "  have  I  seen  and  heard  and 
known  of  Brother  John  of  Parma,  which  would  be  worthy 
of  record ;  yet  1  must  omit  the  rest  for  brevity's  sake  and 
because  1  am  in  haste  to  pass  on  to  other  things  ;  and  because 
the  Scripture  saith,  '  Praise  not  any  man  before  death.'  For  he 
hath  lived  long  and  he  liveth  yet  in  this  year  1284  wherein  I 
write."* 

Five  years  afterwards,  in  the  year  in  which  Salimbene  himself 
probably  died,  John  of  Parma  undertook  a  second  journey  to 
Constantinople  for  the  conversion  of  the  Greeks.  He  started 
with  the  blessing  of  his  general,  Acquasparta,  and  of  Pope 
Nicholas  IV,  himself  a  Franciscan ;  but  at  Camerino  in  the 
Apennines  his  strength  failed  him.  As  he  entered  the  city  he 
murmured  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "This  is  my  rest  for  ever 
and  ever ;  here  will  1  dwell,  for  1  have  chosen  it."  A  few  days 
later,  he  breathed  his  last  among  the  Brethren,  and  in  the  presence 
of  many  citizens  whom  the  renown  of  the  stranger's  sanctity  had 
attracted  to  the  convent.  Dante's  Ubertino  da  Casale,  who  in 
former  days  had  made  a  special  pilgrimage  to  Greccio  for  the  sake 
of  the  old  man's  absolution  and  blessing,  records  the  vivid  and 
immediate  renown  of  the  miracles  worked  at  his  tomb.  "  Seldom 
do  I  remember  to  have  read,  for  a  long  time  past,  so  many  mir- 
acles worked  by  any  saint The  less  he  hath  been  formally 

approved  by  that  carnal  Church  which  he  most  bitterly  rebuked, 
the  more  richly  he  would  seem  to  have  been  endowed  in  the 
heavenly  Church  with  the  manifold  working  of  miracles."  To 
Angelo  Clareno  he  was  one  of  the  four  great  wonder-workers  of 
the  latter  13th  century — witnesses  of  God's  power  in  an  age 
which  had  almost  lost  the  power  of  miracles.     A  hundred  and 


Convent  Friendships.  ill 

fifty  years  later,  St.  Bernardino  of  Siena  calls  him  Saint  John, 
and  alludes  to  a  record  which  attributes  more  miracles  to  him 
than  to  any  other  disciple  of  St.  Francis.  His  tomb  was  still 
hung  round  with  a  multitude  of  votive  oiFerings  at  the  beginning 
of  the  XVlIIth  century,  when  they  were  destroyed  by  "restor- 
ers." The  original  Gothic  tomb,  which  is  described  as  a  work 
of  great  beauty,  had  perished  at  a  still  earlier  restoration.  His 
worship  had  long  been  officially  recognised,  if  not  by  the  Pope, 
at  least  by  the  city,  so  that  it  remained  untouched  by  that  Papal 
decree  of  1675,  which  forbade  the  cult  of  unauthorised  saints 
unless  they  could  show  a  prescription  of  at  least  100  years.  John 
was  formally  beatified  by  Pius  V  I  in  1777,  so  that  Salimbene's 
friend  has  now  his  special  Mass  and  Offices  among  the  services 
of  the  Roman  Church.^ 

Our  chronicler  claims  also  to  have  known  intimately  all  the 
twelve  "  companions  "  or  secretaries  whom  John  wore  out  suc- 
cessively by  his  long  journeys  on  foot  from  convent  to  convent ; 
and  he  paints  most  of  them  with  vivid  touches  (550  foil.). 
First  comes  Brother  Mark  of  the  swift  untiring  pen  ;  "  an  honest 
and  holy  man  who  lived  to  a  great  age ;  he  was  of  Modena,  and 
lies  buried  at  Urbino  where  he  coruscates  with  miracles.  He  was 
a  good  writer  and  swift  and  easily  understood  :  and  for  the 
labour  which  he  bore  as  companion  to  Ministers-general  and  in 
writing  their  letters,  he  earned  for  himself  the  decree  in  a  general 
chapter  that  each  priest  in  the  Order  should,  after  his  decease, 
say  a  funeral  mass  for  his  soul.  He  was  a  special  friend  of  mine, 
and  he  dearly  loved  Brother  Bonaventura,  the  Minister-General, 
so  that  after  his  death,  whensoever  he  recalled  his  great  learning 
and  all  the  graces  that  were  his,  he  would  burst  into  tears  at  the 
sweetness  of  that  memory.  Moreover,  when  Brother  Bonaven- 
tura was  to  preach  before  the  clergy.  Brother  Mark  would  go  to 
him  and  say,  '  Thou  art  but  an  hireling,  and  when  thou  preach- 
edst  last,  thou  knewest  not  what  to  say ;  but  I  hope  thou  wilt 
not  do  so  this  time.'  Thus  said  Brother  Mark  that  he  might 
provoke  him  to  speak  the  better  ;  and  yet  he  would  write  down 
all  Brother  Bonaventura's  sermons  for  his  own  use !  But 
Brother  Bonaventura  rejoiced  when  Brother  Mark  reviled  him, 
for  five  reasons  ;  first,  because  he  was  a  kindly  and  patient  man  ; 
secondly,  because  therein  he  imitated  St.  Francis ;  thirdly,  be- 
cause he  was  assured  that  the  Brother  loved  him  dearly  ;  fourthly, 
because  he  had  an  occasion  of  avoiding  vainglory  ;  and  fifthly, 
because  it  gave  him  an  occasion  of  greater  prudence."  Next 
comes  Brother  Andrew  of  Bologna,  Minister  of  the  Holy  Land 
and  Penitentiary  to  the  Pope.     "  The  third  was  Brother  Walter, 


1 1 2  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante, 

English  by  birth,  and  a  truly  angelic  man.*  He  was  a  good 
singer,  slender,  and  of  seemly  stature,  a  goodly  man  to  see,  of 
holy  and  honest  life,  well-mannered  and  learned.  Moreover, 
Brother  Walter  was  sent  to  stay  at  the  Court  of  Rome,  but  he 
laboiu'ed  all  he  could  to  be  removed  thence,  rather  choosing  to  be 
afflicted  with  the  people  of  God  than  to  have  the  pleasure  of  sin 
for  a  time,  esteeming  the  reproaches  of  Christ  greater  riches 
than  the  treasure  of  the  Egyptians.  Yet  I  have  heard  of  this 
Walter  that  afterwards  against  his  will  he  was  made  a  Bishop,  I 
know  not  where.  He  was  my  friend.  And  note  that  all  the 
comrades  of  Brother  John  of  Parma  were  my  intimate  and 
familiar  friends.  The  fourth  was  Brother  Bonagiunta  of  Fab- 
riano,  a  good  Guardian  and  a  learned  man,  a  good  singer, 
preacher  and  writer,  bold,  and  of  middling  stature,  and  with  a 
face  like  St.  Paul.  When  I  was  a  novice  in  the  convent  of 
Fano  in  the  year  1238,  he  was  a  youth  and  lived  there  with  me. 
He  was  first  and  last  Bishop  of  Recanati.  The  fifth  was  Brother 
John  of  Ravenna,  big  and  corpulent  and  black,  a  good  man,  and 
of  honest  life.  Never  saw  I  a  man  who  so  loved  to  eat  macaroni 
with  cheese  " — yet,  as  a  native  of  Parma,  Salimbene  must  have 
had  great  opportunities  in  this  line.  "  The  sixth  was  Anselmo 
Rabuino  of  the  city  of  Asti  in  Lombardy,  big  and  black,  with 
the  figure  and  bearing  of  a  prelate,  and  of  honest  and  holy  life  ; 
he  was  a  judge  while  in  the  world  ;  he  was  Minister  of  the 
Province  of  Terra  di  Lavoro."  The  Brethren  looked  upon  him 
as  a  saint  (315).  "The  seventh  was  Brother  Bartolomeo  Guis- 
colo  of  Parma,  a  great  orator  and  a  great  Joachite,  a  courtly 
and  liberal  man,  who  in  the  world  had  been  a  Master  in  Grammar, 
of  honest  and  holy  life  in  the  Order.  He  could  write,  illuminate, 
and  preach.  The  eighth  was  Brother  Guidolino  Gennaro  of 
Parma,  a  learned  man  and  a  good  singer,  who  sang  excellently 
both  in  harmony  and  in  plainsong.  His  singing  was  better  than 
his  voice,  for  he  had  a  very  slender  voice.  He  was  a  good  writer, 
and  his  hand-writing  also  was  good  and  fair.  And  he  corrected 
texts  well  in  the  convent  at  Bologna,  for  he  knew  the  text  of  the 
Bible  excellently,  and  was  of  honest  and  holy  life,  so  that  the 
Brethren  loved  him.  The  ninth  was  Brother  Giacomino  da 
Berceto,  Guardian  of  the  convent  at  Rimini,  a  man  of  honest  and 
holy  life,  and  a  good  preacher,  having  a  mighty  voice.     The  tenth 

*  The  text  has  '*  Anglicus  juUione,  et  homo  vere  angelictut:"  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  writer  intended  a  pun  here  :  (of.  Sussex  Arch.  Coll.,  vol.  vii,  p.  219.) 
Salimbene  seems  always  so  interested  in  his  English  friends  that  it  is  a  thousand 
pities  he  died  a  few  years  too  soon  to  have  known  the  Adam  Goddam  who  (in 
spite  of  his  truly  medieval  nickname)  was  a  pillar  of  the  English  province  in  1320 
(Wadding,  1320,  §  1). 


Convent  Friendships.  1 1 3 

was  Brother  Jacopo  degli  Assandri  of  Mantua,  a  man  of  honest 
and  holj  life,  and  excellently  versed  in  the  Decretals,  and  in  giving 
counsel.  The  eleventh  was  Brother  Drudo,  Minister  of  Burgundy, 
lector  in  theology,  who  would  daily  preach  to  the  Brethren  con- 
cerning Divine  influences,  as  I  heard  with  mine  own  ears,  when  I 
was  in  Burgundy  with  him.  He  was  a  noble  and  comely  man,  and 
of  incredibly  honest  and  holy  life,  for  he  was  marvellously  devoted 
to  God  beyond  all  thought  of  man.  The  twelfth  was  Brother 
Bonaventura  da  Iseo,  who  was  ancient  both  in  the  Order  and  in 
age,  wise  and  industrious,  and  most  sagacious,  and  a  man  of 
honest  and  holy  life,  and  beloved  of  Ezzelino  da  Romano  ;  yet 
he  played  the  lord  {^  baronizabat'')  above  measure,  seeing  that 
his  mother,  as  men  said,  was  hostess  of  a  tavern.  He  wrote  a 
great  volume  of  sermons  for  the  Sundays  and  Feast-days  of  the 
year.  His  end  was  praiseworthy  ;  may  his  soul  rest  in  peace  ! 
And  note  that  Brother  John  of  Parma,  when  he  was  Minister- 
General,  had  not  all  the  aforesaid  comrades  travelling  with  him 
at  the  same  time,  but  successively ;  for  he  would  go  round  and 
visit  the  Order,  and  his  comrades  could  not  endure  the  labour — 
therefore  he  needed  to  have  a  multitude  of  comrades.  These 
twelve  aforesaid  had  in  them  much  good  which  I  have  omitted 
for  brevity's  sake." 

But  Salimbene  was  not  familiar  with  saints  alone  ;  we  get. 
constant  references  to  such  personages  as  Buondio  the  Jew 
(394),  or  Asdente,  the  harmless  cobbler-prophet  of  Parma, 
whom  Dante  thrust  so  rudely  down  to  Hell.^"  He  dwells,  too, 
with  pardonable  pride  on  his  noble  friends.  (467)  "In  the 
year  1261  died  the  Lord  Simon  de  Manfredi.  He  was  my 
friend,  and  a  good  and  valiant  fighter  for  the  Church  party 
at  the  time  of  the  Great  War."  Again,  (377)  "The  Lady 
Mabel,  daughter  of  the  Lord  Markesopolo*  Pallavicini,  was 
married  by  her  father  before  I  entered  the  Order,  and  she  came 
from  Soragna  to  Parma,  and  lodged  near  the  church  of  St.  Paul. 
And  her  father  gave  her  a  dowry  of  £1,000  Imperial,  and  wedded 
her  to  the  Lord  Azzo,  Marquis  of  Esle,"  who  was  a  good  man 
and  courteous,  humble  and  gentle  and  peaceful,  and  a  friend  of 
mine.  For  once  I  read  to  him  the  Exposition  of  the  Abbot 
Joachim  on  the  Burdens  of  Esaias,  and  he  was  alone  with  me 
and  another  Friar  Minor  under  a  fig-tree.  The  Lady  Mabel  like- 
wise was  devoted  to  me,  and  to  all  men  of  Religion,  and  especially 
to  the  Friars  Minor,  to  whom  she  confessed,  and  whose  Offices 
she  always  said,  and  in  whose  church  at  Ferrara  she  was  buried 

*  ?  Marchese  Paolo. 


1 1 4  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

by  her  husband's  side,  and  rests  in  peace.  She  did  much  good  in 
her  lifetime,  and  at  her  death  scattered  abroad  and  gave  to  the 
poor  many  alms  of  her  possessions.  Seven  years  I  dwelt  at 
Ferrara,  where  she  likewise  dwelt.  She  was  a  fair  lady,  wise, 
clement,  benign,  courteous,  honest,  and  pious,  humble,  and  ever 
devoted  to  God.  She  was  not  avaricious  of  her  goods,  but  freely 
she  gave  to  the  poor.  She  had  a  furnace  in  an  inner  chamber  of 
her  palace,  as  I  have  seen  with  mine  own  eyes,  and  she  herself 
made  rose-water  and  gave  it  to  the  sick  ;  wherefore  the  physicians 
stationary*  and  apothecaries  loved  her  the  less.  But  she  cared 
for  none  of  these  things,  if  only  she  might  succour  the  sick, 
and  please  God.  Many  years  she  lived  with  her  husband,  and 
was  ever  barren.  But  after  the  death  of  her  husband  she  caused 
a  house  to  be  built  for  her  beside  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor, 
and  there  she  dwelt  in  her  widowhood.  May  her  soul,  through 
God's  mercy,  rest  in  peace,  for  she  was  a  virtuous  lady.  After 
the  death  of  the  Marquis  she  came  to  Parma,  and  I  was  there, 
and  heard  from  her  that  she  was  in  marvellous  comfort,  for  that 
she  Mas  hard  by  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and  the  church 
of  the  glorious  Virgin.  Never  saw  1  any  lady  who  so  brought  to 
my  mind  the  Countess  Matilda,^^  according  to  all  that  I  have 
found  written  of  her."  Her  father,  Markesopolo,  had  long  since 
found  himself  unable  to  keep  up  his  old  baronial  dignity  in  the 
new  and  prosperous  Parma,  "  for  he  was  noble  and  great-hearted, 
and  therefore  took  it  ill  that  any  man  of  the  people  soever, 
whether  of  the  city  or  of  the  country  around,  might  send  an 
ambassador  with  a  red  fillet  on  his  brow,  and  draw  him  to  the 
Palazzo  Communale  to  go  to  law  with  him  before  the  judges." 
So  he  went  off  and  fought  in  Greece,  where  he  was  treacherously 
slain  in  his  own  house  :  '  for  all  things  obey  the  power  of  money.'^^ 
Moreover,  the  Lord  Rubino,  his  brother,  dwelt  in  Soragna,  and 
had  to  wife  the  Lady  Ermengarda  da  Palude.  She  was  a  fair  lady, 
but  wanton,  of  whom  we  might  say  with  Solomon, '  A  golden  ring 
in  a  swine's  snout,  a  woman  fair  and  foolish.'  The  Lord  Rubino 
was  old  and  full  of  days,  and  sent  for  me  in  the  year  of  the 
great  mortality  (1259),  and  confessed  to  me  and  made  his  soul 
right  with  God,  and  died  in  good  old  age,  passing  from  this 
world  to  the  Father.  But  his  wife  took  another  husband,  one 
Egidio  Scorza ;  and  afterwards  she  fell  down  from  an  upper 
chamber,  and  died  and  was  buried,"  For  Salimbene  is  always 
laudably  anxious  to  bring  his  heroes  to  a  good  end,  and  to  record 
how  his  villains  had  their  reward  at  last. 

*  i.e.,  those  who  kept  shops. 


Chapter  X. 
The  Siege  of  Parma. 

IN  spite  of  the  distant  thunder  of  the  Brother  Elias  storm, 
Salimbene's  first  years  in  those  Tuscan  convents  seem  to 
have  been  amon^  the  most  peaceful  of  his  life.  At  Cremona, 
however,  in  the  ninth  year  after  his  reception,  he  found  himself 
a  close  spectator  of  one  of  the  most  savage  and  prolonged  wars 
in  civilized  history.  The  conflicts  of  thirteenth  century  Italy 
between  Pope  and  Emperor  on  the  one  hand,  and  jealous  cities 
on  the  other,  have  seldom  been  surpassed  in  horror  among 
Christian  nations.  The  bitterest  period  of  those  conflicts  began 
with  the  renewed  excommunication  and  deposition  of  Frederick 
II  by  Innocent  IV  in  1245.  Salimbene  describes  Frederick's 
spirit  at  this  time  as  that  of  "a  bear  robbed  of  her  whelps." 
The  war  speedily  degenerated  into  a  chaos  of  sickening  atrocities 
and  reprisals  :  I  give  a  few  of  the  entries  as  specimens. 

In  1239  "  The  Emperor  caused  castles  of  wood  to  be  made,  to 
fight  with  the  men  of  Brescia :  and  on  those  castles  he  placed 
the  captives  whom  he  had  taken.  But  the  men  of  Brescia 
smote  the  said  castles  with  their  mangonels,  without  any  hurt 
to  the  captives  who  were  therein  ;  and  they  for  their  part  hanged 
up  by  the  arms,  without  the  palisade  of  their  town,  such  of 
the  Emperor's  men  as  they  had  taken  captive "  (95).  In 
1246  "Tebaldo  Francesco  and  many  other  barons  of  Apulia 
rebelled  against  the  deposed  Emperor  Frederick ;  and  after  a 
long  siege  they  were  taken  in  the  castle  of  Cappozio,  and  miserably 
tormented,  both  men,  women,  and  little  children."  In  the 
year  following,  "  Ezzelino  laid  waste  the  whole  diocese  of  Parma, 
on  this  side  of  the  Lencia  toward  the  castle  of  Bersello  : — and 
the  Mantuans  for  their  part  burnt  the  whole  diocese  of  Cremona 
from  Torricella  downwards.  For  it  was  a  fierce  war,  and  tangled, 
and  perilous"  (178).  In  a  war  of  this  description,  the  first 
advantage  would  seem  to  lie  with  the  more  barbarous  and 
unscrupulous  of  the  two  parties  :  and  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that,  on  the  whole,  this  bad  pre-eminence  was  with  the  Ghibel- 
lines.     With   the  help  of  his  unspeakable  lieutenant  Ezzelino, 


1 1 6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Frederick  had  devastated  the  north  of  Italy,  and  was  ah-eadj 
thinking  of  crossing  the  Alps  to  attack  the  Pope  in  his  refuge 
at  Lyons,  when  the  sudden  revolt  of  Salimbene's  own  native  city 
struck  the  blow  which  was  destined  to  ruin  his  hopes.  It  was  the 
old  story :  the  Imperialists  of  Parma  had  in  the  previous  year 
expelled  all  the  principal  Guelfs  from  the  city,  and  burnt  their 
houses ;  so  that  these  desperate  men,  having  nothing  further  to 
lose,  led  a  forlorn  hope  which  turned  the  whole  tide  of  the  war. 
(188)  "In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1247  a  few  banished  knights, 
dwelling  at  Piacenza,  who  were  valiant,  vigorous,  and  strong, 
and  most  skilled  in  war — these  men  were  in  bitterness  of  spirit, 
both  because  their  houses  in  Parma  had  been  torn  to  the  ground, 
and  because  it  is  an  evil  life  to  wander  as  guest  from  house  to 
house^ — for  they  were  exiles  and  banished  men,  having  great 
households  and  but  little  money,  for  they  had  left  Parma  suddenly 
lest  the  Emperor  should  catch  them  in  his  toils — these  men,  I 
say,  came  from  Piacenza  and  entered  Parma,  and  expelled  the 
Emperor's  party  on  the  15th  day  of  Jime,  slaying  the  Podesta 
of  Parma,  who  was  my  acquaintance  and  friend,  and  dearly 
beloved  of  the  Brethren  Minor. 

Now  there  were  many  reasons  why  these  banished  men  were 
easily  able  to  take  the  city  ...  The  third  reason  is  that  on  that 
day  the  Lord  Bartolo  Tavernario  gave  his  daughter  in  marriage 
to  a  certain  Lord  of  Brescia,  who  had  come  to  Parma  to  fetch 
her ;  and  those  who  met  the  exiles  as  they  came  to  attack  the 
city  had  eaten  at  that  banquet,  so  that  they  were  full  of  wine 
and  over-much  feasting ;  and  they  arose  from  table  and  fondly 
thought  to  overthrow  all  at  the  first  onset.  Seeing  therefore  that 
they  were  as  men  drunk  with  wine,  their  enemies  slew  and 
scattered  them  in  flight.  The  fourth  is  that  the  city  of  Parma 
was  wholly  unfenced,  and  open  in  all  directions.  The  fifth  is 
that  those  who  came  to  invade  the  city  folded  their  hands  on 
their  breasts,  thus  making  the  sign  of  the  Cross  to  all  whom 
they  met,  saying,  '  For  the  love  of  God  and  the  Blessed  Virgin 
His  Mother,  who  is  our  Lady  in  this  city,  may  it  please  you  that 
we  return  to  our  own  city,  whence  we  were  expelled  and  banished 
without  fault  of  our  own ;  and  we  come  back  with  peace  to  all, 
nor  are  we  minded  to  do  harm  to  any  man.'  The  men  of  Parma 
who  had  met  them  unarmed  along  the  street,  hearing  this,  were 
moved  to  pity  by  their  humility,  and  said  to  them,  '  Enter  the 
city  in  peace,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  for  our  hand  also  shall 
be  with  you  in  all  these  things.'  The  sixth  is  that  they  who 
dwelt  in  the  city  did  not  concern  themselves  with  these  matters, 
for  they  neither  held  with  those  who  had  come  in,  nor  did  they 


The  Siege  of  Parma.  117 

fight  for  the  Emperor ;  but  bankers  or  money-changers  sat  at 
their  tables,  and  men  of  other  arts  worked  still  at  their  posts  as 
though  nought  were."  Our  author  presently  goes  on  to  describe, 
in  the  words  which  I  have  already  quoted  in  full,  that  horrible 
devastation  of  the  country  which  he  expressly  dates  from  "  the 
time  when  Parma  withdrew  from  Frederick's  allegiance,  and 
clave  to  the  Church." 

To  Salimbene,  this  revolt  was  but  a  natural  consequence  of 
the  Pope's  ban,  which  had  reduced  the  Emperor  to  the  state  of 
"  a  bird  whose  wing  feathers  have  been  plucked  away."  But 
the  blow  only  roused  Frederick  to  greater  exertions.  His  son 
Enzio,  who  was  the  nearest  imperialist  commander,  might  have 
retrieved  the  disaster  by  a  sudden  counterstroke  :  but  he  lacked 
the  necessary  nerve.  (193)  "  When  King  Enzio  heard  that  the 
Guelf  exiles  had  entered  Parma  by  force,  leaving  the  siege  of 
Quinzano,  he  came  by  a  forced  night  march,  not  singing  but 
groaning  inwardly,  as  is  the  wont  of  an  army  returning  from  a 
rout.  I  lived  in  those  days  in  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor 
at  Cremona,  wherefore  I  knew  all  these  things  well.  For  at 
early  dawn  the  men  of  Cremona  were  assembled  forthwith  with 
the  King  to  a  Council,  which  lasted  even  to  high  tierce  {i.e.  past 
9  o'clock) ;  after  which  they  ate  hurriedly  and  went  forth  to  the 
very  last  man,  with  the  Carroccio  in  their  van.  There  remained 
not  in  Cremona  one  man  who  was  able  to  march  and  fight  in 
battle ;  and  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  if  they  had  marched 
without  delay  to  Parma  and  quitted  themselves  like  men,  they 
would  have  recovered  the  city.  For  if  one  enemy  knew  how 
it  fared  in  all  things  with  his  enemy,  he  might  oft-times  smite 
him  ;  but  by  the  will  of  God  King  Enzio  halted  with  the  army 
of  Cremona  by  the  Taro  Morto,  and  came  not  to  Parma,  that 
the  Lord  might  bring  evil  upon  them.  For  he  wished  to  wait 
there  until  his  father  should  come  from  Turin.  Meanwhile 
succour  came  daily  from  all  parts  to  the  men  of  Parma  who  had 
entered  the  city :  and  the  citizens  made  themselves  a  ditch 
and  a  palisade,  that  their  city  might  be  shut  in  against  the 
enemy.  Then  the  Emperor,  all  inflamed  with  wrath  and  fury 
at  that  which  had  befallen  him,  came  to  Parma ;  and  in  the 
district  called  Grola,  wherein  is  great  plenty  of  vineyards  and 
good  wine  (for  the  wine  of  that  land  is  most  excellent),  he  built 
a  city,  surrounded  with  great  trenches,  which  also  he  called 
Victoria,  as  an  omen  of  that  which  should  come  to  pass.  And 
the  moneys  which  he  minted  there  were  called  Victorini ;  and 
the  great  church  was  called  after  St.  Victor.  So  there  Frederick 
lodged  with  his  army,  and  King  Enzio  with  the  army  of  Cremona  ; 


1 1 8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  the  Emperor  summoned  all  his  friends  to  come  in  haste  to 
his  succour.  And  the  first  who  came  was  the  Lord  (Jgo  Boterio, 
a  citizen  of  Parma,  sister's  son  to  Pope  Innocent  IV  ;  who, 
being  Podesta  of  Pavia  at  that  time,  came  with  all  the  men  of 
Pavia  whom  he  deemed  fit  for  war.  Neither  by  prayers  nor 
by  promises  could  the  Pope  tear  away  this  nephew  of  his  from 
the  love  of  Frederick  ;  and  yet  the  Pope  loved  his  mother  best 
of  all  his  three  sisters — for  the  other  two  were  likewise  married 
in  Parma. 

After  him  came  Ezzelino  da  Romano,  who  in  those  days  was 
Lord  of  the  Mark  of  Treviso,  and  he  brought  with  him  a  vast 
army.  This  Ezzelino  was  feared  worse  than  the  devil  :  he  held  it 
of  no  account  to  slay  men,  women,  and  children,  and  he  wrought 
such  cruelty  as  men  have  scarce  heard.  On  one  day  he  caused 
11,000  men  of  Padua  to  be  burnt  in  the  field  of  Saint  George  in 
the  city  of  Verona  ;  and  when  fire  had  been  set  to  the  house  in 
which  they  were  being  burnt,  he  jousted  as  if  in  sport  around  them 
with  his  knights.  It  would  be  too  long  to  relate  his  cruelties, 
for  they  would  fill  a  great  book.  I  believe  most  certainly  that 
as  the  Son  of  God  wished  to  have  one  specially  whom  He  might 
make  like  unto  Himself,  namely  St.  Francis,  so  the  Devil  chose 
Ezzelino.  It  was  of  the  blessed  Francis  that  it  was  written 
that  to  one  servant  He  gave  five  talents ;  for  never  was  there 
but  one  man  in  this  world,  namely  the  blessed  Francis,  on  whom 
Christ  impressed  the  five  wounds  in  likeness  of  Himself.^  For, 
as  was  told  me  by  Brother  Leo,  his  comrade,  who  was  present 
when  he  was  washed  for  burial,  he  seemed  in  all  things  like  a 
man  crucified  and  taken  down  from  the  cross. 

Furthermore,  after  Ezzelino  many  nations  came  to  Frederick's 
succour,  as  the  men  of  Reggio  and  Modena,  who  were  for  the 
Emperor  in  their  several  cities,  the  men  of  Bergamo  also,  and 
other  cities,  as  well  of  Tuscany  as  of  Lombardy,  and  other  parts 
of  the  world  which  held  rather  with  the  Emperor  than  with  the 
Church.  And  they  came  from  Burgundy  and  Calabria  and  Apulia 
and  Sicily,  and  from  Terra  di  Lavoro  ;  and  Greeks,  and  Saracens 
from  Nocera,  and  well-nigh  from  every  nation  under  the  sun. 
Wherefore  that  word  of  Esaias  might  have  been  said  to  him, '  Thou 
hast  multiplied  the  nation,  and  hast  not  increased  the  joy '  :  and 
this  for  many  reasons.  First,  with  the  aid  of  his  whole  host  he 
could  but  beset  that  one  road  from  Parma  to  Borgo  San  Donnino  ; 
while  the  rest  of  the  city  felt  nothing  of  the  siege.  Again, 
whereas  the  Emperor  thought  in  his  heart  utterly  to  destroy 
the  city  and  to  transfer  it  to  the  city  of  Victoria  which  he  had 
founded,  and  to  sow  salt  in  token  of  barrenness  over  the  destroyed 


The  Siege  of  Parma.  119 

Parma  ;  then  the  women  of  Parma,  learning  this,  (and  especially 
the  rich,  the  noble,  and  the  powerful),  betook  themselves  with 
one  accord  to  pray  for  the  aid  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  that 
she  might  help  to  free  their  city  ;  for  her  name  and  title  were 
held  in  the  greatest  reverence  by  the  Parmese  in  their  cathedral 
church.  And,  that  they  might  the  better  gain  her  ear,  they  made  a 
model  of  the  city  in  solid  silver,  which  I  have  seen,  and  which 
was  offered  as  a  gift  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  ;  and  there  were  to 
be  seen  the  greatest  and  chiefest  buildings  of  the  city,  fashioned 
of  solid  silver,  as  the  cathedral  church,  the  Baptistery,  the 
Bishop's  palace,  the  Palazzo  Communale,  and  many  other 
buildings  which  showed  forth  the  image  of  the  city.  The  Mother 
prayed  her  Son  :  the  Son  heard  the  Mother,  to  whom  of  right  He 
could  deny  nothing,  according  to  the  word  which  is  figuratively 
contained  in  Holy  Scripture,  '  My  mother,  ask  :  for  I  must  not 
turn  away  thy  face.'  These  are  the  words  of  Solomon  to  his 
mother.  And  when  the  Mother  of  Mercy  had  prayed  her  Son 
to  free  her  city  of  Parma  from  that  multitude  of  nations  which 
was  gathered  together  against  it,  and  when  the  night  was  now 
close  at  hand,  the  Son  said  to  His  Mother,  '  Hast  thou  seen  all 
this  exceeding  great  multitude  ?  Behold,  I  will  deliver  them 
into  thy  hand  this  day,  that  thou  may  est  know  that  I  am  the 
Lord.'"  In  repeating  this  dialogue  between  the  Virgin  Mary 
and  her  Son,  Salimbene  is  of  course  only  a  child  of  his  time.  It 
was  a  commonplace  of  thirteenth  century  theology,  that  "  it 
was  not  right  for  the  Son  to  deny  His  Mother  aught"  :  and  a 
far  more  blasphemous  dialogue  to  the  same  effect,  which  is 
repeatedly  recorded  by  the  Franciscan  and  Dominican  writers, 
may  be  found  in  the  first  chapter  of  "  Lives  of  the  Brethren." 
More  popular  ideas  of  the  Virgin  Mary's  power  over  her  Son  are 
exemplified  by  Caesarius's  story  of  the  simple-minded  Cistercian 
lay-brother  who  was  heard  to  pray,  "In  truth.  Lord,  if  Thou 
free  me  not  from  this  temptation,  I  will  complain  of  Thee  to  Thy 
Mother."  The  convent  was  much  edified  by  the  lay-brother's 
simplicity,  and  by  our  Lord's  humility  in  condescending  to 
grant  a  prayer  couched  in  such  terms.'  We  have  here  only  the 
grosser  side  of  the  rapidly-growing  materialism  :  the  great 
encyclopedist  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  who  compiled  his  work  with 
the  help  of  St.  Louis'  library,  writes  of  a  Pope  as  saying  that 
"  Mary,  the  Mother  of  Jesus  ...  is  the  only  hope  of  reconciliation 
for  [sinful]  man,  the  main  cause  of  eternal  salvation  "  (Spec. 
Hist.  vii.  95). 

Meanwhile  the   Emperor  pushed   the   siege   with  an   energy 
proportionate  to  the  bitterness  of  his  disappointment.     Salimbene 


I20  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

had  returned  bv  this  time  to  his  native  city — ^probably  among 
those  Guelf  exiles  from  Cremona  of  whom  he  speaks  so  feeHugly 
below :  and  here  he  found  plenty  of  exciting  incidents :  for 
( 1 96)  "  men  went  out  daily  from  either  side  to  fight :  crossbowmen, 
archers,  and  slingers,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes  :  and  ruffians 
also  daily  scoured  the  whole  diocese  of  Parma,  plundering  and 
burning  on  all  sides  :  and  likewise  did  the  men  of  Parma  to 
those  of  Cremona  and  Reggio.  The  Mantuans  also  came  in 
those  days  and  burnt  Casalmaggiore  to  the  ground,  as  I  saw 
with  mine  own  eyes.  And  every  morning  the  Emperor  came 
with  his  men,  and  beheaded  three  or  four,  or  as  many  more  as 
seemed  good  to  him,  of  the  men  of  Parma  and  Modena  and 
Reggio  who  were  of  the  Church  party,  and  whom  he  kept  in 
bonds  :  and  all  this  he  did  on  the  shingles  by  the  riverside  within 
sight  of  the  men  of  Parma  who  were  in  the  city,  that  he  might 
vex  their  souls.  The  Emperor  put  many  innocent  men  to  an 
evil  death,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  the  Lord  Andrea  di  Trego, 
who  was  a  noble  knight  of  Cremona,  and  of  Conrad  di  Berceto, 
who  was  a  clerk,  and  valiant  in  arms,  whom  he  tortured  in  divers 
manners  with  fire  and  water  and  manifold  torments.  The 
Emperor  was  wont  to  slay  of  these  captives  at  his  will ;  and 
especially  when  he  made  assault  with  outrageous  words  against 
the  city,  and  when  the  battle  went  against  him,  then  would  he 
refresh  his  soul  in  the  blood  of  these  captives.  At  one  time  also 
certain  knights  of  the  Mark  of  Ancona  deserted  the  Emperor, 
and  fled  to  Parma ;  because  at  the  beginning  of  the  rebellion 
the  Emperor  caused  many  knights  of  the  Mark  to  be  put  in 
ward  as  hostages  in  the  city  of  Cremona.  And  a  messenger 
came  from  the  Emperor  bidding  five  of  these  knights,  even  as 
they  washed  their  hands  before  supper,  to  mount  their  horses 
forthwith  and  ride  with  him  to  the  Emperor.  And  when  they 
were  come  to  a  certain  field  called  Mosa,  which  is  without  the 
city  of  Cremona,  he  led  them  to  the  gallows,  and  they  were 
hanged.  And  these  butchers  said,  '  This  is  the  Emperor's 
command,  for  ye  are  traitors '  ;  yet  they  had  come  to  his  succour. 
On  the  day  following  the  Brethren  Minor  came  and  took  them 
down  and  buried  them  ;  and  scarce  could  they  drive  away  the 
wolves  from  eating  them  while  they  yet  hung  on  the  gallows. 
All  this  I  saw,  for  I  lived  at  Cremona  in  those  days,  and  in 
Parma  hkewise.  It  would  be  too  long  to  recount  all  those  of 
the  Church  party  whom  he  slew  and  caused  to  be  slain  in  those 
days.  For  he  sent  the  Lord  Gerardo  di  Canale  of  Parma  into 
Apulia,  and  caused  him  to  be  drowned  in  the  depths  of  the  sea 
with  a  mill-stone  at  his  neck ;  and  yet  he  had  been  at  first  one 


The  Siege  of  Parma.  I2i 

of  his  nearest  friends,  and  had  held  manj  offices  from  him ;  and 
ever  he  remained  with  him  in  the  armj  without  Parma.  And 
the  Emperor  had  but  this  one  cause  of  suspicion  against  him, 
that  the  tower  of  his  mansion  in  Parma  was  not  destroyed.* 
Wherefore  the  Emperor  would  sometimes  say  to  him,  laughing- 
in  false  and  feigned  jest,  '  The  men  of  Parma  love  us  much,  my 
Lord  Gerard,  for  that  whereas  they  tore  down  in  their  city  the 
other  Ghibelline  buildings,  they  have  as  yet  destroyed  neither 
your  tower,  nor  my  palace  on  the  Arena.'  Wherein  he  spoke 
ironically,  but  the  Lord  Gerard  understood  him  not.  When 
therefore  I  left  Parma  to  go  into  France,  I  passed  through  the 
village  wherein  the  Lord  Gerard  then  lived  ;  and  he  saw  me 
gladly,  saying  that  he  was  of  much  profit  to  the  citizens  of 
Parma.  And  I  said  to  him  *  Since  the  Emperor  is  besieging 
Parma,  be  ye  wholly  with  him  or  wholly  with  the  citizens,  and 
halt  not  between  two  opinions,  for  it  is  not  to  your  profit.'  Yet 
he  hearkened  not  unto  me ;  wherefore  we  may  say  of  him  with 
the  Wise  Man  *  The  way  of  a  fool  is  right  in  his  own  eyes  :  but 
he  that  is  wise  hearkenth  unto  counsels.'  And  note  that  the 
Lord  Bernard,  son  of  Rolando  Rossi  of  Parma,  who  was  of 
kindred  with  the  Lord  Pope  Innocent  IV  (for  he  had  the  Pope's 
sister  to  wife),  better  understood  the  Emperor's  ironical  speech 
than  did  the  Lord  Gerard  di  Canale.  For  when,  as  he  rode 
one  day  with  the  Emperor,  his  horse  stumbled,  then  the  Emperor 
said  to  him, '  My  Lord  Bernard,  ye  have  an  evil  horse,  but  1  hope 
and  promise  you  that  within  a  few  days  1  will  give  you  a  better, 
which  shall  not  stumble.'  And  the  Lord  Bernard  understood 
that  he  spake  of  hanging  him  on  the  gallows :  wherefore  he  was 
inflamed  with  indignation  against  the  Emperor,  and  fled  from 
before  his  face.'  Yet  the  Lord  Bernard  was  the  Emperor's 
gossip  and  most  intimate  friend,  and  well-beloved  of  him,  and 
when  he  would  enter  into  his  chamber,  no  man  ever  denied  him 
the  door.  But  the  Emperor  could  keep  no  man's  friendship  ; 
nay,  rather,  he  boasted  that  he  had  never  nourished  a  pig,  but 
that  at  last  he  had  its  grease,  which  was  as  much  as  to  say  that 
he  had  never  raised  any  to  riches  and  honour  but  that  in  the 
end  he  had  drained  his  purse  or  his  treasure.  Which  was  a 
most  churlish  saying,  yet  we  see  an  example  thereof  in  Pier  delle 
Vigne,  who  was  the  greatest  counsellor  and  writer  of  State 
papers  in  the  Emperor's  court,  and  was  called  by  the  Emperor 
his  chancellor.  And  yet  the  Emperor  had  raised  him  from  the 
dust ;  and  afterwards  he  returned  him  to  the  same  dust,  for  he 
found  an  occasion  of  a  word  and  a  calumny  against  him,  which 
was  as  follows.     The  Emperor  had  sent  the  judge  Taddeo  and 


122  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Pier  delle  Vigne,  whom  he  loved  above  all,  and  who  stood  above 
all  others  in  his  court,  and  certain  others  he  had  sent  with  them 
to  Lyons  to  Pope  Innocent  IV,  to  hinder  the  said  Pope  from 
hastening  to  depose  him  ;  for  he  had  heard  that  to  this  end  the 
Council  was  being  gathered  together.  And  he  had  straitly 
charged  them  that  none  should  speak  with  the  Pope  without 
his  fellow,  or  without  the  presence  of  others.  But  after  they 
were  returned,  his  comrades  accused  Pier  delle  Vigne  that  he 
had  often  had  familiar  colloquy  with  the  Pope  without  them. 
The  Emperor  therefore  sent  and  caused  him  to  be  taken  and 
slain  by  an  evil  death,  saying  in  the  words  of  Job  '  They  that 
were  sometime  my  counsellors  have  abhorred  me  :  and  he  whom 
I  loved  most  is  turned  against  me.'  For  in  those  days  the 
Emperor  was  easily  troubled  in  his  mind,  because  he  had  been 
deposed  from  the  Empire,  and  Parma  had  fostered  the  spirit  of 
rebellion  against  him. 

So  Frederick's  affliction  and  cursedness  wherewith  he  was 
inflamed  against  Parma,  endured  from  the  end  of  the  month 
of  June  1247  to  Tuesday  the  18th  of  February  1248,  on  which 
day  his  city  of  Victoria  was  taken.  For  the  men  of  Parma  went 
forth  from  their  city,  knights  and  commons  side  by  side,  fully 
harnessed  for  war  ;  and  their  very  women  and  girls  went  out 
with  them  ;  youths  and  maidens,  old  men  and  young  together. 
They  drove  the  Emperor  by  force  from  Victoria  with  all  his 
horse  and  foot ;  and  many  were  slain  there,  and  many  taken 
and  led  to  Parma.  And  they  freed  their  own  captives,  whom 
the  Emperor  kept  in  bonds  in  Victoria.  And  the  Carroccio  of 
Cremona,  which  was  in  Victoria,  they  brought  to  Parma,  and 
placed  it  in  triumph  in  the  Baptistery.  But  those  who  loved 
not  the  men  of  Cremona,  (as  the  Milanese,  and  Mantuans,  and 
many  others  whom  the  men  of  Cremona  had  offended,)  when 
they  came  to  see  the  Baptistery,  and  saw  the  Carroccio  of  their 
enemies,  carried  off  the  ornaments  of  '  Berta '  (for  so  was  that 
Carroccio  called)  to  keep  them  as  relics.  So  the  wheels  alone 
and  the  framework  of  the  carriage  remained  on  the  pavement 
of  the  Baptistery  :  and  the  mast  or  pole  for  the  standard  stood 
upright  against  the  wall.  Moreover  the  men  of  Parma  spoiled 
the  Emperor  of  all  his  treasure — for  he  had  a  mighty  treasure 
of  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones,  vessels  and  vestments. 
And  they  took  all  his  ornaments  and  his  imperial  crown,  which 
was  of  great  weight  and  value,  for  it  was  all  of  gold,  inlaid  with 
precious  stones,  with  many  images  of  goldsmith's  work  standing 
out,  and  much  graven  work.  It  was  as  great  as  a  cauldron,  for 
it  was  rather  for  dignity  and  for  great  price  than  as  an  ornament 


The  Siege  of  Parma.  123 

for  his  head  ;  for  it  would  have  hidden  all  his  head,  face  and  all, 
had  it  not  been  raised  to  stand  higher  by  means  of  a  cunningly 
disposed  piece  of  cloth.  This  crown  I  have  held  in  my  hands, 
for  it  was  kept  in  the  sacristy  of  the  Cathedral  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  in  the  city  of  Parma.  It  was  found  by  a  little  man  of 
mean  stature,  who  was  called  ironically  Cortopasso  {Short-step), 
and  who  bore  it  openly  on  his  fist  as  men  bear  a  falcon,  showing 
it  to  all  who  could  see  it,  in  honour  of  the  victory  they  had 
gained,  and  to  the  eternal  disgrace  of  Frederick.  For  whatso- 
ever each  could  seize  became  his  own,  nor  did  any  dare  to  tear 
aught  away  from  another  :  nor  was  a  single  contentious  or  injur- 
ious word  heard  there,  which  was  a  great  marvel.  So  the  afore- 
said crown  was  bought  by  the  men  of  Parma  from  this  their  fellow- 
citizen,  and  they  gave  him  for  it  £200  Imperial,  and  a  house  near 
the  Church  of  Santa  Cristina,  where  of  old  days  had  been  a  pool 
to  wash  horses.  And  they  made  a  statute  that  whosoever  had 
aught  of  the  treasure  of  Victoria  should  have  the  half  for  himself, 
and  should  give  half  to  the  community  :  wherefore  poor  men 
were  marvellously  enriched  with  the  spoil  of  so  rich  a  prince. 

Now  the  Emperor's  special  effects  which  appertained  to 
war,  as  his  pavilions  and  things  of  that  kind,  were  taken  by  the 
Legate,  Gregorio  da  Montelungo ;  but  the  images  and  the  relics 
which  he  possessed  were  placed  in  the  sacristy  of  the  Cathedral 
Church  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  to  be  kept  there.  And  note  that 
of  the  treasures  which  were  found  in  Victoria  little  remained 
in  Parma ;  for  merchants  came  from  divers  parts  to  buy  them, 
and  had  them  good  cheap,  and  carried  them  away — namely, 
gold  and  silver  vessels,  gems,  unions,  pearls  and  precious  stones, 
garments  of  purple  and  silk,  and  of  all  things  known  that  are 
for  the  use  and  ornament  of  men.  Note  also  that  many  treasures 
in  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones  remained  hidden  in  jars, 
chests,  and  sepulchres,  in  the  spot  where  the  city  of  Victoria 
was,  and  are  there  even  unto  these  days,  although  their  hiding- 
places  are  unknown.  Note  also  that,  after  the  destruction  of 
Victoria,  each  man  recognised  so  clearly  the  place  in  which 
aforetime  he  had  had  his  vineyard,  that  no  word  of  contention 
or  quarrel  arose  among  them.  Moreover,  at  that  time  when 
Frederick  was  put  to  flight  by  the  men  of  Parma,  the  Scripture 
was  fulfilled  which  saith  '  As  a  tempest  that  passeth,  so  the 
wicked  shall  be  no  more.' "  Here  Salimbene  enters  upon  a 
lengthy  exposition  of  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Daniel,  the  detailed 
fulfilment  of  which  he  sees  in  Frederick's  career,  and  especially 
in  the  fact  that  his  own  illegitimate  son  Manfred  poisoned  him 
by  means  of  a  clyster,  and  was  himself  slain  in  battle  by  Charles 
of  Anjou. 


Chapter  XI. 
The  Guelfs  Victorious* 

THOUGrH  Frederick  never  recovered  from  the  blow  that  fell 
upon  him  at  Victoria,  he  still  hovered  about  Parma,  ravag- 
ing the  country  and  waiting  for  some  unguarded  moment.  The 
Pope  vainly  attempted  to  stir  up  St.  Louis  against  him.  Mean- 
while the  war  raged  with  varying  success.  Bernardo  Rossi  was 
slain  in  battle,  to  the  disappointment  of  Frederick,  who  had 
hoped  to  take  him  alive  and  put  out  his  eyes.  Next  year, 
however,  the  tide  turned  again  and  the  Emperor's  natural  son 
Enzio  was  taken  by  the  Bolognese.  (329)  "  In  the  year  1249 
the  Podesta  of  Genoa  came  to  our  convent  on  the  day  of  Pentecost 
to  hear  Mass.  And  I  was  there  ;  and  the  sacristan  was  Brother 
Pentecost,  a  holy,  honest,  and  good  man,  who  would  have  rung 
the  bell  for  the  Podesta's  coming :  but  he  said,  '  Hear  first  my 
tidings,  for  the  men  of  Bologna  have  taken  King  Enzio,  with  a 
great  multitude  of  the  men  of  Cremona  and  Modena,  and  German 
soldiers.'  Now  this  King  Enzio  was  a  valiant  man,  and  bold  and 
stout-hearted  ;  and  doughty  in  arms,  and  a  man  of  solace  when 
he  would,  and  a  maker  of  songs  :  and  in  war  he  was  wont  to 
expose  himself  most  boldly  to  perils.  He  was  a  comely  man,  of 
middle  height ;  many  years  the  men  of  Bologna  kept  him  in  prison, 
even  to  the  end  of  his  life.  And  when  one  day  the  gaolers  would 
not  give  him  to  eat,  Brother  Albertino  of  Verona,  who  was  a 
mighty  Preacher  in  our  Order,  went  and  besought  them  to  give 
him  to  eat  for  God's  love  and  his.  And  when  they  gave  no  ear 
to  his  petition,  he  said  to  them, '  I  will  play  at  dice  with  you,  and  if 
I  win,  1  may  then  bring  him  meat.'  So  they  played,  and  he  won, 
and  gave  the  king  meat,  and  remained  in  familiar  converse  with 
him  :  and  all  who  heard  this  commended  the  friar's  charity, 
courtesy,  and  liberality.^  Moreover,  the  Lord  Guido  da  Sesso, 
who  was  the  chief  of  the  Emperor's  party  in  the  city  of  Reggio, 
perished  in  the  flight  [of  Enzio's  army],  for  he  was  smothered 
with  his  M'ar-horse  in  the  cesspool  of  the  leper-house  of  Modena. 
He  was  a  most  bitter  enemy  of  the  Church  party,  so  that  once 


The  Guelfs  Victorious.  125 

when  many  had  been  taken  by  the  King  and  doomed  to  the 
gallows,  and  would  fain  have  confessed  their  sins,  he  would  grant 
them  no  respite,  saying,  '  Ye  have  no  need  to  confess  ;  for,  being 
of  the  Church  party,  ye  are  saints,  and  will  go  forthwith  to 
Paradise  : '  so  they  were  hanged  unshriven.  Moreover,  in  those 
days  he  would  enter  with  other  malefactors  into  the  convent  of 
the  Friars  Minor ;  and  calling  together  the  Brethren  in  the 
Chapter-house  he  would  demand  of  each  in  turn  whence  he  came  ; 
and  he  let  write  their  names  by  his  notary,  saying  to  each,  '  Go 
thou  thy  ways,  and  thou  likewise  go  thy  ways,  and  never  dare  to 
appear  again  in  this  convent  or  this  city.'  And  so  they  expelled 
all  but  a  few  who  kept  the  convent,  and  even  these,  as  they  went 
begging  through  the  city  for  their  daily  needs,  were  reviled  and 
slandered  by  him  and  his  men,  as  though  they  carried  false 
letters,  and  were  traitors  to  the  Emperor.  Neither  the  Friars 
Minor  nor  the  Preachers  dared  to  enter  the  cities  of  Modena  or 
Reggio  or  Cremona  on  their  journeys,  and  if  ever  any  had 
chanced  to  enter  unwittingly,  they  were  led  to  the  Palazzo  Com- 
munale  and  kept  in  ward  ;  and  having  been  fed  with  the  bread 
of  affliction  and  the  water  of  anguish  for  certain  days,  they  were 
opprobriously  driven  out,  cast  forth  and  tormented,  or  even  slain. 
For  many  were  tortured  in  Cremona  and  in  Borgo  San  Donnino. 
In  Modena  they  took  the  Friars  Preachers  who  had  iron  moulds 
for  making  holy  wafers,  and  led  them  with  many  indignities  to 
the  Palazzo  Communale,  saying  that  they  bore  stamps  to  coin 
false  and  counterfeit  money.  Nor  did  they  spare  even  the 
Brethren  of  their  own  party  whose  kin  were  said  to  be  wholly  on 
the  Emperor's  side,  and  who  themselves  also  persevered  therein  ; 
for  Brother  Jacopo  of  Pavia  was  expelled  and  thrust  forth  with 
ignominy,  and  Brother  John  of  Bibbiano  and  Brother  Jacopo  of 
Bersello  among  others ;  and,  in  a  word,  all  in  the  convent  of 
Cremona  who  were  of  the  Church  party,  were  dismissed  :  and  I 
was  present  in  that  year.  Moreover,  they  kept  Brother  Ugoliuo 
da  Cavazza  long  waiting  in  ward  at  the  gate  of  the  city  of 
Reggio,  and  would  not  suffer  him  to  enter  in,  though  he  had 
several  blood-brethren  of  the  Emperor's  party  in  the  city.  To 
speak  shortly,  they  were  men  of  Satan,  the  chief  of  whom  in 
malice  was  one  Giuliano  da  Sesso,  a  man  grown  old  in  evil  days, 
who  caused  some  of  the  Fogliani  family  to  be  hanged,  and  many 
others  to  be  slain  because  they  were  of  the  Church  party  ;  and 
he  gloried  in  these  things,  saying  to  his  fellows,  '  See  how  we 
treat  these  bandits.'  This  Giuliano  was  in  truth  a  limb  of  the 
fiend ;  wherefore  God  struck  him  with  palsy,  so  that  he  was 
wholly  withered  up  on  one  side,  and  his  eye  started  from  his 


126  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

head,  yet  without  leaving  its  socket,  but  jutting  forth  outwardly 
like  an  arrow,  which  was  loathsome  to  see.  Moreover,  he 
became  so  stinking  that  none  dared  come  near  him  for  his 
superfluity  of  nastiness,  except  a  certain  German  damsel  whom 
he  kept  as  a  leman,  and  whose  beauty  was  so  great  that  he  who 
beheld  her  without  pleasure  was  held  most  austere.  This  Giuil- 
iano  said  in  full  assembly  that  it  were  better  to  eat  quicklime 
than  to  have  peace  with  the  Church  party,  though  he  himself 
fed  on  good  capons,  while  the  poor  were  dying  of  hunger.  Yet 
the  prosperity  of  the  wicked  endureth  not  long  in  this  world  : 
for  presently  the  Church  party  began  to  prosper  ;  and  then  this 
wretch  was  driven  forth  and  carried  secretly  from  the  city,  and 
died  a  mass  of  corruption,  excommunicate  and  accursed  ;  un- 
houseled,  disappointed,  unanel'd.  He  was  buried  in  a  ditch  in  the 
town  of  Campagnola." 

In  1250  Frederick  gained  his  last  victory  against  the  rebellious 
city,  on  that  very  site  of  Victoria  where  his  own  army  had  been 
defeated.  He  drove  them  back  in  such  headlong  rout  that  his 
men  would  have  entered  the  city  pell-mell  with  the  fugitives, 
had  not  the  Blessed  Virgin  intervened  by  breaking  the  bridge 
and  drowning  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines  together  in  the  moat.  As 
it  was,  the  Ghibellines  took  the  Parmese  Carroccio  with  3,000 
prisoners.  (335)  "They  bound  their  captives  on  the  gravel  of 
the  River  Taro,  as  the  Lord  Ghiaratto  told  me,  who  was  bound 
there  himself;  and  they  led  them  to  Cremona  and  cast  them 
chained  into  dungeons.  There  for  vengeance  sake,  and  to  extort 
ransom,  they  practised  many  outrages  on  them,  hanging  them 
up  in  the  dungeons  by  their  hands  and  their  feet,  and  drawing 
out  their  teeth  in  terrible  and  horrible  wise,  and  laying  toads  in 
their  mouths.  For  in  those  days  were  inventors  of  new  torments, 
and  the  men  of  Cremona  were  most  cruel  to  the  captives  of 
Parma.  But  the  Parmese  of  the  Emperor's  party  were  still 
worse,  for  they  slew  many ;  but  in  process  of  time  the  Church 
party  in  Parma  avenged  themselves  wondrously." 

An  interesting  side-light  is  thrown  on  this  account  of  Salim- 
bene's  by  the  very  impartial  contemporary  Chronicle  of  Parma 
published  by  Muratori  (Scriptores  vol.  ix.  p.  771  foil.)  It  tells  us 
of  savage  reprisals  on  the  part  of  the  citizens :  and  how  "  many 
[imperialists]  were  caught  coming  in  as  spies  hidden  in  hay  or 
straw  waggons,  or  in  casks  and  chests  :  and  such  were  tortured, 
confessed,  and  were  burned  on  the  river-beach  of  the  city.  And 
many  women  were  thus  caught,  put  to  torment,  and  burned." 
The  Emperor,  adds  the  Chronicler,  beheaded  only  some  ten  or 
twelve  of  his  prisoners,  and  spared  the  rest,  partly  at  the  prayer 


The  Guelfs  Victorious.  127 

of  the  men  of  Pavia,  partly  because  he  recognised  the  uselessness 
of  such  executions.  But  he  kept  in  bonds  about  a  thousand  of 
his  Guelf  prisoners  :  and  "  their  kinsfolk  rejoiced  rather  in  their 
death  than  in  their  life  .  .  .  for  oftentimes  these  prisoners  died 
in  the  aforesaid  prisons,  slain  with  stench  and  terror."  In  the 
year  1253  peace  was  made  and  all  prisoners  were  released  :  but 
of  the  thousand  only  318  returned  to  their  homes,  "since  all  the 
rest  had  died  in  the  aforesaid  prisons  by  reason  of  their  grievous 
and  insupportable  torments.  For  daily  they  were  set  to  the  rack, 
and  hanged  upon  the  engines  as  upon  a  cross  ;  and  oft-times 
men  denied  them  food ;  and  they  suffered  from  the  stench  of 
the  corpses,  for  the  dead  were  never  drawn  forth  from  prison 
until  the  living  had  first  paid  the  tax  imposed  upon  them,  and 
[meanwhile]  men  gave  them  no  bread  :  so  that  the  living  oft- 
times  hid  their  bread  and  other  victuals  among  the  bodies  of  the 
dead,  lest  their  cruel  jailors  should  find  them  when  they  locked 
up  the  prison.  And  the  aforesaid  prisons  wherein  the  men  of  the 
Church  party  lay  bound  were  called  '  The  Hell '  ;  and  such 
indeed  they  were.  The  dead  had  no  sepulture,  but  were  cast 
into  the  Po."'  The  Chronicler  expressly  mentions  that  the  death 
of  Bernardo  Rossi  in  the  battle  of  1248  was  avenged  by  the 
cold-blooded  execution  of  four  of  the  chief  Ghibelline  captives 
in  Parma ;  and  that  the  Emperor  retaliated  by  transporting 
fourteen  of  his  Guelf  prisoners  to  his  A  pulian  dungeons. 

All  this  time  the  Parmese  Ghibellines  had  taken  up  their 
headquarters  at  Borgo  San  Donnino,  a  little  town  some  fourteen 
miles  N.VV.  of  Parma  on  the  Emilian  Way.  They  long  counted 
on  some  such  sudden  turn  of  fortune's  wheel  as  that  by  which 
they  themselves  had  lost  the  city :  for  they  had  still  partisans 
among  the  citizens.  (371)  "  But  in  process  of  time  the  Parmese 
exiles  at  Borgo  San  Donnino  besought  their  fellow-citizens  of  the 
Church  party  that  they  would  vouchsafe  to  take  them  into  the 
city  agam,  for  God's  sake  and  the  blessed  and  glorious  Virgin's  : 
for  they  would  have  peace,  since  the  Emperor  was  now  dead.  So 
those  made  peace  with  them  and  brought  them  into  their  city, 
as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes.  But  they,  seeing  their  houses 
destroyed  (for  this  the  Church  party  had  done  when  they  expelled 
them)  began  to  contend  again  and  to  attack  the  Church  party ; 
and  seeing  that  Uberto  Pallavicino  was  lord  of  Cremona  and  of 
many  other  cities,  they  thought  in  their  hearts  to  make  him  lord 
of  Parma  also.  At  this  the  citizens  quaked  as  a  rush  quakes  in 
the  stream,  and  set  themselves  to  hide  many  of  their  dearest 
possessions.  1  also  hid  my  books  (for  I  lived  at  Parma  then), 
and  many  citizens  of  the  Church  party  purposed  to  depart  from 


128  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  city  of  their  own  free  will,  lest  Pallavicino  should  come  and 
catch  them  and  spoil  their  goods.  Meanwhile,  Parma  was  full 
of  rumours  of  his  coming,  and  yet  he  came  not  so  soon,  since  he 
had  other  threads  to  weave.  For  he  purposed  first  to  take 
Colurnio  and  Borgo  San  Donnino  (as  indeed  he  did),  that  he  might 
enter  Parma  more  triumphantly  afterwards  :  seeing  that  the 
Guelfs,  driven  out  from  Parma,  would  have  no  place  of  refuge, 
and  would  thus  receive  checkmate  after  cherishing  the  serpent 
in  their  bosom.  But  suddenly  in  the  meanwhile  a  man  rose  up 
against  him,  who  dwelt  hard  by  the  bridge-head  of  Parma.  This 
was  a  tailor,  Giovanni  Barisello  by  name,  the  son  of  a  farmer 
(such  as  the  Parmese  call  mezzadro)  on  the  estate  of  theTebaldi. 
For  he  took  in  liis  hands  a  cross  and  a  book  of  the  Gospels,  and 
went  through  Parma  from  house  to  house  of  the  Ghibelline  party, 
and  made  each  swear  obedience  to  the  Pope's  bidding  and  to  the 
Church  party  ;  for  he  had  with  him  a  full  five  hundred  armed  men 
who  followed  him  as  their  chief.  Wherefore  many  swore  obedience 
to  the  Church  and  the  Pope,  partly  of  their  free  will,  partly  for 
fear  of  the  armed  men  whom  they  saw  :  and  such  as  would  not 
swear  went  forth  hastily  from  Parma  to  dwell  at  Borgo  San 
Donnino :  for  whensoever  there  was  a  division  between  the 
citizens  of  Parma,  the  exiles  had  that  city  of  refuge  ever  at  hand  ; 
whose  citizens  rejoiced  in  the  discords  of  Parma,  and  would  have 
rejoiced  yet  more  to  see  her  utterly  destroyed.  For  they  of  Borgo 
never  loved  Parma  :  nay  rather,  when  Parma  was  at  war,  all  the 
ruffians  of  Lombardy  would  gather  together  there,  and  Borgo 
would  receive  them  gladly  for  the  destruction  and  confusion  of 
Parma.  Yet  the  Parme"Se  had  done  well  to  Borgo,  as  I  saw  with 
mine  own  eyes,  for  I  lived  there  a  whole  year  in  1259,  when  the 
great  plague  was  throughout  Italy.  The  first  benefit  was,  that 
they  gave  them  a  Podesta  yearly  from  Parma  and  paid  the  half  of 
his  ssuary.  The  second,  that  the  citizens  might  have  at  Borgo, 
without  contradiction  of  the  Parmese,  the  market  of  all  the  land 
on  their  side  of  the  river  Taro,  which  is  five  miles  distant  froTh 
Parma  :  and  thug  they  had  ten  miles  of  the  Bishopric  of  Parma 
for  their  market,  and  the  Parmese  five  miles  only.  The  third 
was,  that  the  Parmese  defended  them  if  they  were  at  war  with 
the  Cremonese  or  others.  The  fourth,  that,  though  there  were 
but  two  noble  houses  in  Borgo,  the  Pinkilini  and  the  Verzoli, 
and  the  rest  were  citizens  and  rich  farmers,  yet  the  Parmese 
would  marry  their  noble  ladies  among  them,  which  was  no  small 
matter.  I  think  I  have  seen  there  a  score  of  ladies  from  Parma, 
clothed  in  fur  of  vair  and  in  scarlet  cloth.  In  spite  of  all  these 
benefits  the  men  of  Borgo  were  ungrateful,  and  well  they  deserved 


The  Guelfs  Victorious.  1 29 

their  destruction  by  the  men  of  Parma  when  a  fit  time  was  come. 
So  this  Giovanni  Barisello,  as  he  went  through  Parma  and  made 
all  the  suspects  swear,  came  to  the  house  of  the  lord  Rolando  di 
Guido  Bovi,  who  dwelt  at  the  bridge-head  bj  the  church  of  San 
Gervasio ;  and,  calling  him  forth  from  his  house,  he  bade  him 
swear  fealty  to  the  Church  party  without  further  delay,  or  else 
depart  from  Parma  as  he  loved  his  life.  This  lord  was  of  the 
Ghibelline  party,  and  had  been  Podesta  of  many  cities  under  the 
Emperor  :  yet  when  he  saw  so  great  a  multitude  gathered  together 
and  heard  their  demands  and  their  threats,  he  did  as  the  Wise 
Man  saith  '  The  prudent  man  saw  the  evil  and  hid  himself  :  the 
simple  passed  on,  and  suffered  loss.'  For  he  took  the  oath, 
saying  '  I  swear  to  stand  by  and  obey  the  precepts  of  the  Pontiff 
of  Rome,  and  to  cleave  to  the  Church  party  all  the  days  of  my 
life,  to  the  shame  of  that  other  most  miserable  and  utterly  filthy 
{merdiferosae)  party  of  all  that  are  beneath  the  sky.'  This  he 
said  of  his  own,  the  Emperor's  party,  for  that  they  had  suffered 
themselves  to  be  basely  trodden  under  foot  by  such  men.  And 
the  Parmese  Guelfs  loved  him  from  thenceforth,  for  it  was 
reckoned  to  his  honour.  Now  this  Giovanni  Barisello  who  rose 
up  in  Parma  was  a  man  poor  and  wise,  who  delivered  the  city 
by  his  wisdom  :  wherefore  the  citizens  were  not  ungrateful  but 
repaid  him  with  many  kindnesses.  First,  they  turned  his 
poverty  to  riches  ;  secondly,  they  gave  him  a  wife  of  the  noble 
family  of  Cornazano ;  thirdly,  they  ordained  that  he  should 
ever  be  of  the  Council  without  further  election,  for  he  had  mother- 
wit  and  was  a  gracious  speaker  ;  fourthly,  they  permitted  him 
to  found  and  lead  a  gild  called  after  his  own  name,  on  condition 
that  it  should  ever  be  to  the  honour  and  profit  of  the  Commune. 
This  gild  lasted  many  years ;  but  a  certain  Podesta  of  Parma,  the 
Lord  Manfredino  di  liosa  of  Modena,  would  fain  have  destroyed 
it,  for  he  would  not  that  the  men  of  Parma  should  be  called  after 
such  a  man's  name  :  and  he  wished  to  rule  the  city  with  his  own 
Council.  Wherefore  he  bade  Giovanni  Barisello  see  to  his  own 
house  and  his  own  work,  and  leave  this  gild  and  this  great  show 
which  he  seemed  to  make  :  so  Giovanni  obeyed  humbly,  and  that 
same  day  he  went  back  to  his  board  and  took  his  needle  and 
thread,  and  began  to  sew  garments  in  the  sight  of  his  fellow- 
citizens.  (The  father  of  the  aforesaid  Podesta  was  of  my 
acquaintance ;  his  mother  and  his  wife  were  my  spiritual 
daughters).  Yet  this  Giovanni  was  ever  beloved  of  the  citizens, 
and  had  ever  a  place  and  a  good  repute  in  Parma.  But  in 
process  of  time  King  Charles  of  Anjou,  hearing  that  the  Parmese 
were  a  warlike  folk,  and  friendly  to  him,  and  ever  ready  to  succour 


1 30  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  Church,  sent  word  to  them  to  found  a  gild  in  honour  of  God 
and  the  Holy  Roman  Church,  which  should  be  called  the  Gild  of 
the  Cross  :  of  which  gild  he  himself  would  be  one  ;  and  he  would 
that  all  other  gilds  of  Parma  be  incorporated  in  this,  and  that 
thej  should  ever  be  ready  to  succour  the  Roman  Church  when 
she  should  need  it.  So  the  citizens  formed  this  gild  and  called  it 
the  Gild  of  the  Crusaders,  and  they  inscribed  King  Charles  in 
letters  of  gold  at  the  beginning  of  the  register,  that  this  prince 
and  duke  and  count  and  king  and  triumphant  hero  might  be 
the  captain  and  leader  of  this  gild.  And  whosoever  in  Parma 
is  not  thereof,  if  he  offend  any  of  the  gild,  they  defend  each  other 
like  bees,  and  run  forthwith  and  tear  down  his  house  to  its  very 
foundations,  razing  it  so  utterly  to  the  ground  that  not  one  stone 
is  left  upon  another  :  which  strikes  fear  into  the  rest,  for  they 
must  either  live  in  peace  or  enter  this  gild.  And  so  the  gild  hath 
increased  marvellously,  and  the  men  of  Parma  are  no  longer 
named  after  Giovanni  Barisello,  but  after  King  Charles  and  the 
Cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  Whom  is  honour  and  glory  for 
ever  and  ever,  Amen." 

Prof.  Holder-Egger  (p.  375.  notes  4,  5,)  points  out  inaccuracies 
of  detail  in  this  account :  and  Salimbene's  narrative  needs  one  im- 
portant rectification  which  the  author  did  not  live  to  make  :  for  in 
1298  poor  Barisello  was  taken  prisoner  and  tortured  to  death.  But 
the  description  of  the  gild's  activity  is  fully  borne  out  by  the 
Chronicon  Parmense,  from  which  one  extract  may  suffice.  "  In  the 
year  1293  the  Lord  Podesta,  with  an  armed  force  of  1,000  or  more, 
made  an  assault  after  the  customary  fashion  upon  the  houses 
of  the  Lord  Giovanni  de'  Nizi  (who  was  a  Frute  Godejite),  and  of 
Poltrenerio  de'  Ricicoldi,  by  reason  of  certain  injuries  which  they 
had  done  to  some  who  were  enrolled  in  the  Gild  Book."  So 
valuable  a  privilege  naturally  led  to  abuses ;  and  we  accordingly 
find  that  in  1286  the  Gild  Register  had  to  be  burnt  "because 
many  were  found  to  be  illegally  enrolled  therein.  .  .  .  Wherefore 
it  was  ordained  that  another  new  register  should  be  compiled 
from  that  copy  which  was  in  the  Sacristy  of  the  Cathedral  Church, 
and  that  it  should  be  so  rubricated  with  red  ink  as  that  no  fresh 
names  could  be  added  thereto."  But  the  political  morality  of 
a  medieval  Italian  city  rendered  all  such  precautions  useless. 
Only  seven  years  later  the  Captain  of  the  City  and  his  notary, 
in  collusion  with  another  scrivener,  falsified  the  register  afresh, 
and  fled  the  city  on  the  discovery  of  their  forgery.' 

The  Gild,  however,  had  thoroughly  done  its  work  of  ensuring 
Guelf  supremacy  in  Parma.  The  first  inquisition  held  by 
Bariselli  with  his  500  satellites  had  inaugurated  a  three  days' 


The  Guelfs  Victorious.  1 3 1 

reign  of  terror  in  the  city,  marked  by  robberies  and  ravages 
which  the  Podestas  were  powerless  to  prevent  or  to  punish. 
Many  GhibelHne  houses  were  razed,  or  burned  with  such  blind 
fury  that  even  a  raven's  nest  was  consumed  in  the  flames,  in 
spite  of  the  medieval  superstition  which  reprobated  so  ominous 
an  outrage.  The  palaces  of  the  obnoxious  Pallavicino  were  of 
course  destroyed,  and  the  site  turned  into  a  meat  market,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  Uberti  at  Florence  :  Salimbene  mentions  a  third 
case  at  Reggio  under  the  year  1273.  This  destruction  at  Parma 
was  probably  in  1266.  In  1268  the  citizens  already  felt  strong 
enough,  with  their  allies,  to  attempt  the  complete  reduction  of 
Borgo  San  Donnino :  "  but  after  a  long  siege  they  retired, 
destroying  the  trees  and  corn  and  houses  outside  the  walls, 
together  with  the  vineyards.  And  that  same  year  the  men  of 
Parma  made  peace"  (475). 

As  the  Chronicon  Parmense  tells  us,  this  peace  was  received  in 
the  city  with  such  wild  rejoicing  that  many  were  crushed  to 
death  that  evening  in  the  crowd.  The  same  year  saw  the  defeat 
and  death  of  Conradin,  the  last  hope  of  the  Ghibellines  in  Italy  ; 
and  it  was  evident  that  Borgo  could  no  longer  sustain  the  unequal 
struggle.  The  Parmese  were  planning  the  details  of  a  great 
fortress  to  act  as  a  perpetual  check  upon  the  rebel  stronghold, 
when  the  Podesta  and  councillors  came  with  the  keys  of  their 
town  to  surrender  at  discretion.  The  Parmese  might  now  spare 
themselves  the  expense  of  the  new  fortress  :  "  they  razed  the 
walls  of  Borgo  San  Donnino  to  the  ground,  and  filled  up  the 
moats,  and  commanded  the  citizens  to  quit  the  town  and  to 
rebuild  their  houses  in  a  long  street  on  either  side  of  the  high  road 
towards  Parma  ;  and  thus  they  did,  and  thus  it  remains  unto 
this  day  "  (478).  Eleven  years  afterwards,  another  great  step 
was  taken  in  the  cause  of  peace.  Parma  had  long  since  allied 
herself  with  her  old  enemy  Cremona  ;  and  now  at  last  (505) 
"the  Parmese  restored  to  Cremona  her  Carroccio,  which  they 
had  taken  when  they  drove  the  Emperor  from  Victoria ;  and  so 
also  did  the  Cremonese  with  the  Carroccio  of  Parma  which  they 
had  captured,  restoring  it  now  to  the  men  of  Parma  ;  and  these 
restitutions  were  made  with  great  honour  and  joy  and  gladness 
on  either  side." 

So  Parma  now  no  longer  fights  for  life  and  death,  but  is  a 
definitely  Guelf  city  at  comparative  peace.  The  stormcloud 
drifts  away  for  a  while,  and  we  get  only  fitful  glimpses  of  battle 
that  flash  and  die  out  in  the  distance  like  summer  lightning  all 
round  Salimbene's  horizon ;  but  such  flashes  are  still  frequent 
and  lurid  enough.     "  In  1248  the  town  of  Castellarano  was  taken 


132  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

by  the  Commune  of  Reggio  and  many  were  taken  and  slain  ; 
and  all  men  of  Trignano  and  of  the  Bishopric  of  Reggio  who  were 
found  in  the  said  town  were  put  to  an  evil  death."  In  1265  the 
Count  of  Flanders  "  destroyed  the  town  of  Capicolo,  and  all  were 
slain  therein,  men  and  women  and  children,  for  that  they  had 
hanged  one  of  the  aforesaid  count's  knights."  Salimbene  records 
many  other  similar  incidents  under  the  years  1266-1280  :  after 
which  these  monotonous  notices  of  petty  quarrels  give  way  to 
fresh  pictures  of  civil  war  on  a  larger  scale.  For  the  discords  of 
Florence  from  which  Dante  suffered  so  cruelly  were  merely 
typical  of  the  state  of  things  throughout  Italy.  The  Guelfs  had 
hardly  assured  their  supremacy  over  the  Ghibellines,  when  they 
themselves  split  into  new  parties  as  savage  and  irreconcilable  as 
the  old.  Salimbene  complains  (379)  that  "the  Imperial  party 
has  been  utterly  destroyed  in  Imola,  and  the  Church  party  from 
its  envy  and  ambition  is  now  divided  into  two  factions.  This  same 
curse  has  now  come  to  the  men  of  Modena,  and  is  to  be  found 
in  Reggio  also.  God  grant  that  it  be  not  found  in  Parma,  where 
the  same  matter  is  likewise  to  be  feared."  Again  (370)  "This 
city  of  Bologna  was  the  last  to  drink  of  the  cup  of  God's  wrath, 
and  she  drank  it  even  to  the  dregs,  lest  perchance  she  should  be 
moved  to  boast  of  her  righteousness  and  insult  other  cities  which 
had  already  drunk  of  the  cup  of  the  wrath  of  God,  and  of  His 
fury  and  indignation.     For  in  that  city  were  assassins,  nor  could 

she  get  the  better  of  them." here  a  page  is  cut  out  of 

the  manuscript,  which  (as  we  learn  from  the  ancient  table  of 
contents),  treated  "  of  the  causes  of  the  destruction  of  Bologna, 
and  against  the  taking  of  usury  and  bribes,  and  concerning  other 
sins."*  Italy,  in  short,  remained  for  generation  after  generation 
in  a  state  of  anarchy  and  misery  which  among  our  own  annals 
can  be  paralleled  only  in  Stephen's  reign  ;  when  men  said  that 
God  and  His  saints  slept.  Yet  the  sad  facts  must  be  faced  : 
for  it  was  from  this  violent  ferment  that  noble  minds  like  St. 
Francis  and  Dante  took  much  of  that  special  flavour  which 
appeals  so  strongly  to  the  modern  literary  mind.  Here,  as 
on  many  other  points,  Salimbene's  evidence  is  all  the  more 
valuable  that  he  himself  was  neither  saint  nor  poet,  but  a  clever, 
observant,  sympathetic  man  with  nothing  heroic  in  his  com- 
position. AH  through  his  chronicle  runs  the  feeling  that,  in 
this  "  hostelry  of  pain,''  the  only  fairly  happy  folk  were  fools  at 
one  end  of  the  scale  and  friars  at  the  other  :  that  a  man's  only 
wise  bargain  was  to  destroy  his  house  on  earth  that  he  might 
build  himself  a  mansion  in  heaven. 

Nor  was  his  individual  experience  specially  unfortunate  for 


The  Guelfs  Victorious.  133 

that  time  :  his  long  tale  of  slaughter  and  ravage  includes  scarcely 
the  most  distant  allusion  to  those  wars  in  Tuscany  which  to 
Dante  and  his  commentator  Benvenuto  seemed  worst  of  all.* 
To  Benvenuto,  indeed,  at  the  end  of  the  14th  century,  things 
seemed  if  possible  more  intolerable  than  to  Salimbene  in  the 
middle  of  the  13th :  he  complains  of  even  Sordello's  bitter 
Philippic  as  utterly  inadequate.  "  In  thy  time,  O  Dante,  certain 
special  evils  did  indeed  oppress  Italy,  but  those  were  small  and 
few  [in  comparison  with  to-day].  .  .  .  I  may  say  now  of  all  Italy 
what  thy  Virgil  said  of  one  city  : — 

'  Look  where  you  will,  heart-rending  agony 
And  panic  reign,  and  many  a  shape  of  death.' 

Assuredly  Italy  suffered  not  so  much  from  Hannibal  or  Pyrrhus 
or  even  from  the  Goths  and  Lombards.  .  .  .Thy  lines,  Dante, 
were  cast  in  happy  days  which  may  well  be  envied  by  all  of  us 
who  live  in  the  wretched  Italy  of  to-day."^  Yet,  a  century  later, 
Savonarola  might  have  looked  back  with  regret  even  to  the  days 
of  despairing  Benvenuto.^  This  decline,  whether  real  or  apparent, 
was  certainly  not  so  rapid  as  each  of  those  writers  imagined  ; 
but  it  is  plain  that  the  good  man  was  always  uneasy  in  his  own 
age,  and  sighed  fondly  for  a  comparatively  unknown  past,  or  for 
a  future  in  which  some  sudden  stroke  of  God's  hand  might  create 
a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth.  The  saint's  constant  cry  was 
"  Would  God  it  were  even  ! "  or  else  "  Would  God  it  were 
morning  ! "  The  conception  of  a  world  around  us  slowly  yet 
surely  working  out  its  own  salvation  by  God's  grace  was  almost 
impossible  to  him.  Nowadays,  thanks  to  the  work  of  saints  in 
all  ages,  and  to  this  era  of  patient  research  and  free  discussion, 
men  are  able  to  face  the  facts  of  human  life  with  a  serener  eye. 
We  see  how  much  richer  the  world  has  grown,  from  age  to  age, 
by  the  lives  of  such  men  as  St.  Francis ;  even  though  learned 
and  pious  Itahans  of  the  13th,  the  14th,  and  the  15th,  centuries 
constantly  yearned  backwards  to  "  the  good  old  days  "  before 
St.  Francis  was  born.  It  is  our  privilege,  in  the  broader  light  of 
history,  to  see  how  the  world  is  more  truly  Christian,  on  the 
whole,  than  in  our  Lord's  days  :  more  truly  Franciscan  than  in 
the  age  of  St.  Francis  :  and  how  the  loss  of  the  past  centuries  is 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  our  present  gain  and  our  future 
hopes. 


Chapter  XII. 
Wandcrjahre. 

SALIMBENE,  as  we  have  seen,  had  left  Cremona — expelled, 
perhaps,  by  the  Ghibelline  authorities — and  had  come  to 
Parma  at  the  beginning  of  the  siege.  However,  he  did  not  see 
that  siege  to  an  end,  but  left  the  city  after  a  few  months  with 
news  for  the  Pope  ;  one  of  the  thousand  friars  who  swarmed  on 
all  the  roads  of  Italy  and  did  such  yeoman  service  to  the  Guelf 
cause  as  despatch-bearers  and  spies.  (53).  "In  that  same  year 
1247,  while  my  city  was  beleaguered  by  the  deposed  Emperor 
Frederick,  I  went  to  Lyons,  and  arrived  there  on  the  Feast  of 
All  Saints.  And  forthwith  the  Pope  sent  for  me  and  spake 
familiarly  with  me  in  his  chamber.  For  since  my  departure 
from  Parma,  even  until  that  day,  he  had  seen  no  messenger  nor 
received  no  letters.  And  he  was  very  gracious  unto  me  ;  that  is, 
he  heard  the  voice  of  my  petition,  being  indeed  a  most  courteous 
man,  and  a  liberal."  Elsewhere  he  specifies  the  favours  here 
received  from  the  Pope  :  permission  for  his  mother  to  enter  a 
convent  of  Clarisses  (55),  and  for  himself  the  coveted  rank  of 
a  Preacher  in  his  Order  (178).  This  Pope  had  himself  been  a 
canon  of  Parma  and  on  fairly  intimate  terms  with  Salimbene's 
father.  Now,  as  the  bearer  of  news  from  the  front,  our  hero 
was  fully  conscious  of  his  own  importance  ;  and  he  dwelt  fondly 
on  the  scene  his  whole  life  long.  As  he  tells  us  later,  he  allowed 
himself  in  this  interview  to  hint  very  plain  doubts  as  to  the  good 
faith  of  the  great  Cardinal  Ottaviano  :  (Dante  Inf.  x.  120,)  and 
the  scene  as  he  describes  it  supplies  a  vivid  commentary  on  the 
"  messagier  che  porta  nlivo  "  in  Dante's  meeting  with  Casella  and 
his  companions.  (384)  "  The  bystanders  were  there  in  such 
multitudes  that  they  lay  hard  one  on  the  other's  shoulders  in 
their  eagerness  to  hear  tidings  of  Parma^ ;  when  therefore  they 
who  stood  by  heard  me  end  my  speech  thus,  they  marvelled, 
and  in  my  own  hearing  they  said  to  each  other,  '  All  the  days 
of  our  life  we  have  seen  no  friar  so  void  of  fear,  and  speaking  so 
plainly.'     This  they  said  partly  because  they  saw  me  sitting 


Wanderjahre.  135 

between  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople  and  the  Guardian,  (for 
the  Guardian  had  invited  me  to  sit  down,  and  I  thought  not  fit 
to  spurn  and  contemn  such  an  honour ;)  and  also  because  they 
saw  and  heard  me  speak  so  of  so  great  a  man,  and  in  the  pre- 
sence of  such  an  assembly.  For  in  those  days  1  was  a  deacon, 
and  a  young  man  of  25  years  old." 

But  Lyons  and  the  Pope  were  only  the  beginning  of  our  friar's 
adventures  on  this  journey.  (206)  "  After  the  Feast  of  All 
Saints  I  set  out  for  France.'  And  when  I  had  come  to  the  first 
convent  beyond  Lyons,  on  that  same  day  arrived  Brother  John 
di  Piano  Carpine,  returning  from  the  Tartars,  whither  the  Pope 
had  sent  him.  This  Brother  John  was  friendly  and  spiritual  and 
learned,  and  a  great  speaker,  and  skilled  in  many  things.  He 
showed  us  a  wooden  goblet  which  he  bore  as  a  gift  to  the  Pope, 
in  the  bottom  whereof  was  the  likeness  of  a  most  fair  queen,  as 
I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes ;  not  wrought  there  by  art  or  by  a 
painter's  cunning,  but  impressed  thereon  by  the  influence  of  the 
stars  :  and  if  it  had  been  cut  into  a  hundred  parts,  it  would 
always  have  borne  the  impress  of  that  image.  Moreover,  lest 
this  seem  incredible,  I  can  prove  it  by  another  example.  For 
the  Emperor  Frederick  gave  the  Brethren  a  certain  Church  in 
Apulia,  which  was  ancient  and  ruined  and  forsaken  of  all  men. 
And,  on  the  spot  where  of  old  the  altar  had  stood,  grew  now  a 
vast  walnut-tree,  which  when  cut  open  showed  in  every  part  the 
image  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  on  the  Cross  ;  and  if  it  had 
been  cut  a  hundred  times,  so  often  would  it  have  shown  the  image 
of  the  Crucifix.  This  was  miraculously  shown  by  God,  since 
that  tree  had  grown  up  on  the  very  spot  whereon  the  Passion 
of  the  spotless  Lamb  is  represented  in  the  Host  of  Salvation 
and  the  Adorable  Sacrifice  ;  yet  some  assert  that  such  impres- 
sions can  be  made  by  the  influence  of  the  stars."'  Brother  John 
told  the  Brethren  those  stories  which  may  still  be  read  in  his 
own  book  (Ed.  C.  R.  Beazley,  Hakluyt  Soc.  1903)  :  remarkably 
true  and  sober  accounts,  on  the  whole,  of  China  and  the  Far 
East.  "  And  he  caused  that  book  to  be  read,  as  1  have  often 
heard  and  seen,  when  he  was  wearied  with  relating  the  deeds 
of  the  Tartars.  And  when  they  who  read  wondered  or  under- 
stood not,  he  himself  would  expound  and  dissert  on  single  points. 
When  I  first  saw  Brother  John  he  was  returning  from  the  Tartars, 
and  on  the  morrow  he  went  his  way  to  see  Pope  Innocent ;  and 
I  on  mine  to  France.  And  I  dwelt  in  Brie  of  Champagne  ;  first 
for  fifteen  days  at  Troyes,  where  were  many  Lombard  and  Tuscan 
merchants,  for  there  is  a  fair  which  lasts  two  months.  Then  I 
went  to  Provins,  from  the  13th  day  of  December  until  the  2nd 


136  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

of  February,  on  which  day  I  went  to  Paris,  and  dwelt  there  a 
week,  and  saw  many  pleasant  sights.  Then  1  returned  and 
dwelt  in  the  convent  of  Sens,  for  the  French  Brethren  gladly 
kept  me  with  them  everywhere,  because  I  was  a  peaceful  and 
ready  youth,  and  because  I  praised  their  doings.  And  as  I  lay 
sick  in  the  infirmary  by  reason  of  the  cold,  there  came  hastily 
certain  French  Brethren  of  the  convent  to  me,  with  a  letter, 
saying,  '  We  have  excellent  news  of  Parma ;  for  the  citizens 
have  driven  out  Frederick,  the  late  Emperor,  from  the  city  of 
Victoria  which  he  had  built,  and  have  taken  the  Emperor's 
whole  treasure,  and  also  the  chariot  of  the  Cremonese ;  and  here 
is  a  copy  of  the  letter  from  the  men  of  Parma  to  the  Pope.'  And 
they  asked  me  to  what  purpose  that  chariot  could  be  used.  And 
I  answered  them  that  the  Lombards  call  this  kind  of  chariot  a 
*  Carroccio,'  and  if  the  Carroccio  of  any  city  be  taken  in  war,  the 
citizens  hold  themselves  sore  shamed  ;  even  as,  if  the  Oriflamme 
were  taken  in  war,  the  French  and  their  King  would  hold  it  a 
great  disgrace.  Hearing  this,  they  marvelled,  saying,  '  Ha  ! 
God !  We  have  heard  a  marvellous  thing.'  After  that  1 
recovered.  And  behold  !  Brother  John  di  Piano  Carpine  was  on 
his  way  home  from  tTie  king,  to  whom  the  Pope  had  sent  him ; 
and  he  had  his  book  which  the  Brethren  read  in  his  presence ; 
and  he  himself  interpreted  whatsoever  seemed  obscure  and 
difficult  to  understand  or  believe.  And  I  ate  with  Brother  John, 
not  only  in  the  Convent  of  the  Brethren  Minor,  but  outside  in 
abbeys  and  places  of  dignity,  and  that  not  once  or  twice  only, 
for  he  was  invited  gladly  both  to  dine  and  to  sup,  partly  as  the 
Pope's  Legate,  partly  as  ambassador  to  the  King  of  France, 
partly  because  he  had  come  from  the  Tartars,  and  partly  also 
for  that  he  was  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor,  and  all  believed 
him  a  man  of  most  holy  life.  For  when  I  was  at  Cluny,  the 
monks  said  to  me,  '  Would  that  the  Pope  would  ever  send  such 
Legates  as  Brother  John  !  for  other  Legates,  so  far  as  in  them 
lies,  spoil  the  Church,  and  carry  oiF  all  that  they  can  lay  their 
hands  upon.  But  Brother  John,  when  he  passed  by  our  Abbey, 
would  accept  nothing  but  cloth  for  a  frock  for  his  comrade.'^  And 
know  thou  who  readest  my  book,  that  the  Abbey  of  Cluny  is  the 
most  noble  monastery  of  Black  Monks  of  St.  Benedict  in  Burgundy ; 
and  in  that  cloister  are  several  priors  ;  and  in  the  aforesaid  Abbey 
the  multitude  of  buildings  is  so  great  that  the  Pope  with  his 
Cardinals  and  all  his  Court  might  lodge  there,  and  likewise  at 
the  same  time  the  Emperor  with  all  his ;  and  this  without  hurt 
10  the  monks :  nor  on  that  account  would  any  monk  need  to 
leave  his  cell  or  suffer  any  discomfort.     Note  also  that  the  Order 


Wanderjahre.  137 

of  St.  Benedict,  so  far  as  the  Black  Monks  are  concerned,  is  far 
better  kept  in  lands  bej'ond  the  mountains  than  among  us  in 
Italy.*  Then  from  Sens  I  went  to  Auxerre,  and  dwelt  there,  for 
the  Minister  of  France  had  assigned  me  specially  to  that  convent." 
Auxerre  interested  him  with  its  many  tombs  of  Saints  and 
martyrs,  and  as  the  dwelling-place  of  Master  William,  a  great 
contemporary  theologian  and  disputant,  but  one  who  "  when  he 
undertook  to  preach,  knew  not  what  to  say  :  note  the  example 
of  that  cobbler  in  Brother  Luke's  sermon,  who  removed  a  moun- 
tain in  the  land  of  the  Saracens  and  freed  the  Christians."  But 
the  city  had  another  still  more  vivid  interest  for  him  :  "  I  remem- 
ber how,  when  I  dwelt  at  Cremona,  Brother  Gabriel,  who  was  a 
most  learned  and  holy  man,  told  me  that  Auxerre  had  more  plenty 
of  vineyards  and  wine  than  Cremona  and  Parma  and  Reggio  and 
Modena  together  ;  whereat  I  marvelled  and  thought  it  incredible. 
But  when  I  dwelt  myself  at  Auxerre,  I  saw  how  he  had  said  the 
truth  ;  for  not  only  are  the  hillsides  covered  with  vineyards, 
but  the  level  plain  also,  as  I  have  seen  with  mine  own  eyes.  For 
the  men  of  that  land  sow  not,  nor  do  they  reap,  neither  have 
they  storehouse  nor  barn ;  but  they  send  wine  to  Paris  by  the 
river  which  flows  hard  by ;  and  there  they  sell  it  at  a  noble 
price.  And  I  myself  have  encompassed  the  diocese  of  Auxerre 
three  times  on  foot ;  once  with  a  certain  Brother  who  preached 
and  gave  men  the  Cross  for  the  Crusade  of  St.  Louis ;  another 
time  with  another  Brother  who,  on  the  day  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
preached  to  the  Cistercians  in  a  most  fair  Abbey  ;  and  we  kept 
the  Feast  of  Easter  with  a  certain  Countess,  who  gave  us  for 
dinner  (or  rather,  who  gave  to  her  whole  court)  twelve  courses 
or  diversities  of  food — and  if  the  Count,  her  husband,  had  been 
there,  then  still  greater  plenty  would  have  been  served.  The 
third  time  1  journeyed  with  Brother  Stephen,  and  saw  and  heard 
many  noteworthy  things,  which  I  omit  here  for  brevity's  sake. 
And  note  that  in  the  Province  of  France  are  eight  custodies  of 
our  Order,  whereof  four  drink  beer,  and  four  drink  wine.  Note 
also  that  there  are  three  parts  of  France  which  give  great  plenty 
of  wine, — namely.  La  Kochelle,  Beaune,  and  Auxerre.  Note 
that  the  red  wines  are  held  in  but  small  esteem,  for  they  are  not 
equal  to  the  red  wines  of  Italy.  Note  likewise  that  the  wines 
01  Auxerre  are  white,  and  sometimes  golden,  and  fragrant,  and 
comforting,  and  of  strong  and  excellent  taste,  and  they  turn  all 
who  drink  them  to  cheerfulness  and  merriment ;  wherefore  of 
this  wine  we  may  rightly  say  with  Solomon  '  Give  strong  wine 
to  them  that  are  sad,  and  wine  to  them  that  are  grieved  in  mind  : 
Let  them  drink  and  forget  their  want,  and  remember  their  sorrow 


138  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

no  more.'  And  know  that  the  wines  of  Auxerre  are  so  strong 
that,  when  they  have  stood  awhile,  tears  gather  on  the  outer 
surface  of  the  jar.  Note  also  that  the  French  are  wont  to  tell 
how  the  best  wine  should  have  three  B's  and  seven  F's.  For 
they  themselves  say  in  sport 

'  £t  bon  et  bel  et  blanc 
Fort  et  tier,  fin  et  franc, 
Froid  et  frais  et  fr^tillant.'  " 

Here,  as  elsewhere  where  he  is  reminded  of  good  cheer,  Salimbene 
seizes  the  occasion  for  breaking  out  into  a  drinking  song  :  it  is 
of  the  usual  type  of  clerkly  medieval  rhymes  ;  and  I  have  tried 
to  render  it  fairly  literally,  while  softening  down  some  of  its 
inevitable  crudities.  It  will  no  doubt  be  noted  that  the  metre 
is  one  of  those  which  hymn-writers  very  likely  borrowed  at  first 
from  secular  songs,  and  which  bacchanalian  or  erotic  songsters 
undoubtedly  borrowed  back  from  the  Church  hymns,  often 
with  a  very  definite  turn  of  parody.^ 

(219)  "  Now  Master  Morando,  who  taught  grammar  at  Padua, 
commended  wine  according  to  his  own  taste  in  this  fashion, 
singing 

'  Drink'st  thou  glorious,  honey'd  wine  ? 
Stout  thy  frame,  thy  face  shall  shine, 
Freely  shalt  thou  spit : 

Old  in  cask,  in  savour  full  ? 
Cheerful  then  shall  be  thy  soul, 
Bright  and  keen  thy  wit. 

Is  it  strong  and  pure  and  clear  ? 
Quickly  shall  it  banish  care, 
Chills  it  shall  extrude : 

But  the  sour  will  bite  thy  tongue. 
Rot  thy  liver,  rot  thy  lung. 
And  corrupt  thy  blood. 

Is  thy  liquor  greyish  pale  ? 
Hoarseness  shall  thy  throat  assail 
Fluxes  shall  ensue  : 

Others,  swilling  clammy  wine, 
Wax  as  fat  as  any  swine. 
Muddy-red  of  hue. 

Scorn  not  red,  though  thin  it  be  : 
Ruddy  wine  shall  redden  thee. 
So  thou  do  but  soak  : 

Juice  of  gold  and  citron  dye 
Doth  our  vitals  fortify, 
Sicknesses  doth  choke : 


Wanderjahre.  1 39 

But  the  cursed  water  white 
Honest  folk  will  interdict, 
Lest  it  spleen  provoke.' 

"  So  the  French  delight  in  good  wine,  nor  need  we  wonder, 
for  wine  '  cheereth  God  and  men,'  as  it  is  written  in  the  ninth 
chapter  of  Judges."  The  author  here  loses  himself  again  in 
Biblical  quotations — Noah,  Lot,  and  the  warnings  of  Proverbs — 
after  which  he  goes  on  :  "  It  may  be  said  literally  that  French 
and  English  make  it  their  business  to  drink  full  goblets  ;  where- 
fore the  French  have  bloodshot  eyes,  for  from  their  ever-free 
potations  of  wine  their  eyes  become  red-riramed,  and  bleared, 
and  bloodshot.  And  in  the  early  morning,  after  they  have 
slept  off  their  wine,  they  go  with  such  eyes  to  the  priest  who 
has  celebrated  Mass,  and  pray  him  to  drop  into  their  eyes  the 
water  wherein  he  has  washed  his  hands.  But  Brother  Bartolom- 
meo  Guiscolo  of  Parma  was  wont  to  say  at  Provins  (as  I  have 
often  heard  with  mine  own  ears)  '  a/c,  ke  malonta  ve  don  De; 
metti  de  Taicfhe  in  le  vins,  noii  in  lis  ocli ;  '  which  is  to  say,  '  Go  ! 
God  give  you  evil  speed  !  Put  the  water  in  your  wine  when  ye 
drink  it,  and  not  in  your  eyes  ! '  The  English  indeed  delight  in 
drink,  and  make  it  their  business  to  drain  full  goblets ;  for  an 
Englishman  will  take  a  cup  of  wine,  and  drain  it,  saying,  Ge  hi,  a 
pi^,'^  which  is  to  say  '  It  behoveth  you  to  drink  as  much  as  I  shall 
drink,'  and  therein  he  thinketh  to  say  and  do  great  courtesy,  and  he 
talceth  it  exceeding  ill  if  any  do  otherwise  than  he  himself  hath 
taught  in  word  and  shown  by  example.  And  yet  he  doth  against 
the  Scripture,  which  saith,  ' .  .  .  Wine  also  in  abundance  and 
of  the  best  was  presented,  as  was  worthy  of  a  king's  magnificence. 
Neither  was  there  any  one  to  compel  them  to  drink  that  were 
not  willing.'  (Esther  i,  7).  Yet  we  must  forgive  the  English 
if  they  are  glad  to  drink  good  wine  when  they  can,  for  they  have 
but  little  wine  in  their  own  country.  In  the  French  it  is  less 
excusable,  for  they  have  greater  plenty  ;  unless  indeed  we  plead 
that  it  is  hard  to  leave  our  daily  wont.  Note  that  it  is  thus 
written  in  verse,  'Normandy  for  sea-fish,  England  for  corn, 
Scotland  [or  Ireland  ?]  for  milk,  France  for  wine.' — Enough 
of  this  matter. — But  note  that  in  France,  as  I  have  seen  with 
mine  own  eyes,  the  days  are  longer  in  the  corresponding  months 
than  in  Italy  :  namely,  in  May  they  are  longer  there  than  here, 
and  in  winter  they  are  less.  Let  me  return  now  to  my  own 
afi'airs,  and  speak  of  the  French  King. 

"  In  the  year  1248,  about  the  Feast  of  Pentecost  or  somewhat 
later,  I  went  down  from  Auxerre  to  the  convent  of  Sens,  for  the 


140  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Provincial  Chapter  of  our  Order  in  France  was  to  be  held  there  ; 
and  the  Lord  Louis  (IX),  King  of  France,  was  to  come  thither. 
And  when  the  King  was  already  hard  by  our  convent,  all  the 
Brethren  went  forth  to  meet  him,  that  they  might  receive  him 
with  all  honour.  And  Brother  Rigaud  of  our  Order,  Professor 
of  Theology  at  Paris,  and  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  clad  in  his 
pontifical  robes,  hastened  forth  from  the  convent,  crying  as  he 
went,  '  W  here  is  the  King  ?  Where  is  the  King  ?  '  So  I  fol- 
lowed him,  for  he  went  by  himself  as  a  man  distraught,  with  his 
mitre  on  his  head,  and  his  pastoral  staff  in  his  hand.^  For  he 
had  fallen  behindhand  in  robing  himself,  so  that  the  other 
Brethren  had  already  gone  forth,  and  stood  on  either  side  of  the 
street  with  their  faces  turned  towards  the  King,  in  their  eagerness 
to  see  him  coming.  And  I  marvelled  beyond  measure  within 
myself,  saying  '  Certainly  I  have  read  oftentimes  how  the  Sen- 
onian  Gauls  were  so  mighty  that  under  Brennus  they  took  the 
city  of  Rome  ;  but  now  their  women  seem  for  the  most  part  like 
handmaids :  yet,  if  the  King  had  passed  through  Pisa  or 
Bologna,  the  whole  flower  of  the  ladies  of  those  cities  would 
have  gone  out  to  meet  him.'  Then  I  remembered  that  this  is 
indeed  the  custom  of  the  French ;  for  in  France  it  is  the 
burgesses  only  who  dwell  in  the  cities,  whereas  the  knights  and 
noble  ladies  dwell  in  the  villages  and  on  their  estates. 

"  Now  the  King  was  spare  and  slender,  somewhat  lean,  and  of 
a  proper  height,  having  the  face  of  an  angel,  and  a  mien  full  of 
grace.  And  he  came  to  our  Church,  not  in  regal  pomp,  but 
in  a  pilgrim's  habit,  with  the  staff"  and  the  scrip  of  his  pilgrimage 
hanging  at  his  neck,  which  was  an  excellent  adornment  for  the 
shoulders  of  a  king.  And  he  came  not  on  horseback,  but  on 
foot;  and  his  blood-brethren,  who  were  three  counts,  (whereof 
the  eldest  was  named  Robert,  and  the  youngest  Charles,  who 
did  afterwards  many  great  deeds  most  worthy  of  praise),  followed 
him  in  the  same  humble  guise,  so  that  they  might  have  said  in 
truth  that  word  of  the  prophet  'Woe  to  them  that  go  down  to 
Egypt  for  help,  trusting  in  horses,  and  putting  their  confidence 
in  chariots,  because  they  are  many,  and  in  horsemen,  because 
they  are  very  strong :  and  have  not  trusted  in  the  holy  One  of 
Israel,  and  have  not  sought  after  the  Lord.'  Nor  did  the  King 
care  for  a  train  of  nobles,  but  rather  for  the  prayers  and  suffrages 
of  the  poor  ;  and  therefore  he  fulfilled  that  which  Ecclesiasticus 
teacheth  '  Make  thyself  affable  to  the  congregation  of  the  poor.' 
In  truth  he  might  rather  be  called  a  monk  in  devotion  of  heart, 
than  a  knight  in  weapons  of  war.  When  he  had  come  into  our 
church,  and  had  made  a   most   devout  genuflexion,  he  prayed 


Wander]  ahre.  1 4 1 

before  the  altar  ;  and  as  he  departed  from  the  church,  and  was 
yet  standing  on  the  threshold,  I  was  by  his  side  ;  and  behold, 
the  treasurer  of  the  cathedral  of  Sens  sent  him  a  great  living 
pike  in  water,  in  a  vessel  of  fir-wood,  such  as  the  Tuscans  call 
'  bigonza^  wherein  nursling  children  are  washed  and  bathed : 
for  in  France  the  pike  is  esteemed  a  dear  and  precious  fish.  And 
the  King  thanked  not  only  the  sender,  but  him  who  brought  the 

"  Then  cried  the  King  in  a  loud  and  clear  voice  that  none  but 
knights  should  enter  the  Chapter-house,  save  only  the  Brethren, 
with  whom  he  would  fain  speak.  And  when  we  were  gathered 
together,  the  King  began  to  speak  of  his  own  matters,  commending 
himself  and  his  brethren  and  the  Queen  his  mother,  and  his 
whole  fellowship  ;  and  kneeling  most  devoutly  he  besought  the 
prayers  and  suflfrages  of  the  Brethren.  And  certain  Brethren 
of  France  who  stood  by  my  side  wept  so  sore  for  devotion  and 
pity  that  they  could  scarce  be  comforted.  After  the  King,  the 
Lord  Oddo,  Cardinal  of  the  Roman  Court,  who  had  formerly 
been  Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Paris,  and  was  now  to  go 
beyond  the  seas  with  him,  began  to  speak,  and  concluded  the 
matter  before  us  in  a  few  words,  as  Ecclesiasticus  teacheth : 
'  Desire  not  to  appear  wise  before  the  king.'  After  those  two, 
Brother  John  of  Parma,  the  Minister-General,  (on  whom  in 
virtue  of  his  office  fell  the  task  of  replying),  spake  as  follows : 
"  *  Our  King  and  lord  and  benefactor  hath  come  to  us  humbly 
and  profitably,  courteously  and  kindly ;  and  he  first  spake  to 
us,  as  was  right ;  nor  doth  he  pray  us  for  gold  or  silver,  whereof 
by  God's  grace  there  is  sufficient  store  in  his  treasury  ;  but  only 
for  the  prayers  and  suffrages  of  the  Brethren,  and  that  for  a 
most  laudable  purpose.  For  in  truth  he  hath  undertaken  this 
pilgrimage  and  signed  himself  with  the  Cross,  in  honour  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  succour  the  Holy  Land,  and  to  conquer 
the  enemies  of  the  Faith  and  Cross  of  Christ,  and  for  the  honour 
of  Holy  Church  and  the  Christain  Faith,  and  for  the  salvation 
of  his  soul,  with  all  theirs  who  are  to  pass  the  seas  with  him. 
Wherefore,  seeing  that  he  hath  been  a  special  benefactor  and 
defender  of  our  Order,  not  only  at  Paris,  but  throughout  his 
kingdom  ;  and  that  he  hath  come  humbly  to  us  with  so  worthy 
a  fellowship  to  pray  for  our  intercession,  it  is  fitting  that  we 
should  render  him  some  good.  Now  whereas  the  Brethren  of 
France  are  already  more  willing  to  undertake  this  matter,  and 
purpose  to  do  more  than  I  could  impose  upon  them,  therefore 
upon  them  1  lay  no  precept.  But,  seeing  that  1  have  begun 
to  visit  the  Order,  I  have  purposed  in  my  mind  to   enjoin  on 


142  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

each  priest  of  the  whole  Order  to  sing  four  Masses  for  the  King 
and  this  holy  fellowship.  And  if  so  be  that  the  Son  of  God  call 
him  from  this  world  to  the  Father,  then  shall  the  Brethren  add 
jet  more  Masses.  And  if  1  have  not  answered  according  to  his 
desire,  let  the  King  himself  be  our  lord  to  command  us,  who 
lack  not  obedient  hearts,  but  only  a  voice  to  prescribe.'  The 
King,  hearing  this,  thanked  the  Minister-General,  and  so  wholly 
accepted  his  answer  that  he  would  fain  have  it  confirmed  under 
his  hand  and  seal.  Moreover,  the  King  took  upon  himself  all 
that  day's  cost,  and  ate  together  with  us  in  the  refectory  ;  and 
with  us  sat  down  to  meat  the  King's  three  brethren,  and  the 
Cardinal,  and  the  Minister-General,  and  Brother  Rigaud,  Arch- 
bishop of  Rouen,  and  the  Minister-Provincial  of  France,  and  the 
Custodes  and  Definitores,  and  the  Discreti,^  and  all  who  were  of 
the  capitular  body,  and  the  Brethren  our  guests,  whom  we  call 

*  foreigners.'  The  Minister-General  therefore,  seeing  that  the 
King  had  already  a  noble  and  worthy  fellow^ship,  was  unwilling 
to  thrust  himself  forward,  according  to  the  word  of  Ecclesiasticus, 

*  Be  not  exalted  in  the  day  of  thy  honour,'  though  indeed  he 
was  invited  to  sit  by  the  King's  side  ;  but  he  loved  rather  to 
practise  that  courtesy  and  humility  which  our  Lord  taught  by 
word  and  example.  Wherefore  Brother  John  chose  rather  to  sit 
at  the  table  of  the  humble  ;  and  it  was  honoured  by  his  presence, 
and  many  Avere  edified  thereby  :  for  consider  that  God  hath 
not  placed  all  the  lights  of  heaven  in  one  part  alone,  but  hath 
distributed  them  in  divers  parts  and  in  sundry  manners  for  the 
greater  beauty  and  utility  of  the  heavens.  This  then  was  our 
fare  that  day  :  first,  cherries,  then  most  excellent  white  bread ; 
and  choice  wine,  worthy  of  the  King's  royal  state,  was  placed 
in  abundance  before  us  ;  and,  after  the  wont  of  the  French, 
many  invited  even  the  unwilling  and  compelled  them  to  drink. 
After  that  we  had  fresh  beans  boiled  in  milk,  fishes  and  crabs, 
eel-pasties,  rice  cooked  with  milk  of  almonds  and  cinnamon 
powder,  eels  baked  with  most  excellent  sauce,  tarts  and  junkets, 
[or  curd-cheeses]  and  all  the  fruits  of  the  season  in  abundance  and 
comely  array.  And  all  these  were  laid  on  the  table  in  courtly 
fashion,  and  busily  ministered  to  us.  On  the  morrow  the  King 
went  on  his  way  ;  and  I,  when  the  Chapter  was  ended,  followed 
him  ;  for  I  had  a  command  from  the  Minister-General  to  go  and 
dwell  in  Provence  :  and  it  was  easy  for  me  to  overtake  the  King, 
for  oft-times  he  turned  aside  from  the  high  road  to  visit  the  her- 
mitages of  Brethren  Minor  or  of  other  Religious,  that  he  might 
commend  himself  to  their  prayers  ;  and  so  he  did  daily  imtil  he 
came  to  the  sea,  and  set  sail  for  the  Holy  Land.     When  therefore 


Wanderjahre.  143 

I  had  visited  the  Brethren  of  Auxerre,  which  hadbeenmj  convent, 
I  went  in  one  day  to  Urgeliac,  a  noble  town  in  Burgundy,  where 
the  body  of  the  Magdalene  was  then  thought  to  lie.  And  the 
morrow  was  a  Sunday  ;  so  at  early  dawn  the  King  came  to  our 
church  to  pray  for  our  suffrages,  according  to  the  word  which  is 
written  in  Proverbs  '  Well  doth  he  rise  early  who  seeketh  good 
things.'  And  he  left  all  his  fellowship  in  the  town  hard  by,  save 
only  his  three  brethren,  and  a  few  grooms  to  hold  their  horses  ; 
and,  when  they  had  knelt  and  made  obeisance  before  the  altar,  his 
brethren  looked  round  for  seats  and  benches.  But  the  King 
sat  on  the  ground  in  the  dust,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes, 
for  that  church  was  unpaved.^"  And  he  called  us  to  him,  saying, 
'  Come  unto  me,  my  most  sweet  Brethren,  and  hear  my  words  ' ; 
and  we  sat  round  him  in  a  ring  on  the  ground,  and  his  blood- 
brethren  did  likewise.  And  he  commended  himself  to  us, 
beseeching  our  suffrages :  and  after  we  had  made  answer,  he 
departed  from  the  church  to  go  on  his  way ;  and  it  was  told 
him  that  Charles  still  prayed  fervently  ;  so  the  King  was  glad, 
and  waited  patiently  without  mounting  his  horse  while  his 
brother  prayed.  And  the  other  two  counts,  his  brethren,  stood 
likewise  waiting  without.  Now  Charles  was  his  yoimgest  brother, 
who  had  the  Queen's  sister  to  wife  ;  and  oft-times  he  bowed  his 
knee  before  the  altar  which  was  in  the  church  aisle  hard  by  the 
door.  So  I  saw  how  earnestly  Charles  prayed,  and  how  patiently 
the  King  waited  without ;  and  I  was  much  edified,  knowing  the 
truth  of  that  Scripture  '  A  brother  that  is  helped  by  his  brother 
is  like  a  strong  city.'  Then  the  King  went  on  his  way  ;  and, 
having  finished  his  business,  he  hastened  to  the  vessel  which  had 
been  prepared  for  him :  but  1  went  to  Lyons,  and  found  the 
Pope  still  there  with  his  Cardinals.  Thence  I  went  down  the 
Rhone,  to  the  city  of  Aries,  and  it  was  the  29th  of  June." 

We  here  take  leave  of  the  saintly  King,  of  whose  crusade 
Salimbene  tells  us  briefly  later  on  (320)  that  it  failed  "by  reason 
of  the  sins  of  the  French,"  and  whom  after  this  he  only  mentions 
cursorily  here  and  there,  without  any  first-hand  touches.  But 
the  next  stage  of  his  journey  brought  him  into  contact  with  a 
man  almost  as  celebrated  in  his  own  day  as  St.  Louis  himself  : 
the  holy  Cordelier  of  Joinville's  narrative  (§§  657  foil.),  which 
is  too  vivid  and  characteristic  to  be  omitted  here.  "  King 
Louis,"  writes  Joinville  of  the  year  1254,  "  heard  tell  of  a  Grey 
Friar  whose  name  was  Brother  Hugh  :  and  for  the  great  renown 
that  he  had  the  King  sent  for  that  Friar  to  see  and  hear  him 
speak.  The  day  he  came  to  Hyeres,  we  looked  down  the  road 
whereby  he  came,  and  were  aware  of  a  great  company  of  people, 


144  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

both  men  and  women,  following  him  on  foot.  The  Kinor  bade 
him  preach  :  and  the  first  words  of  his  sermon  dealt  with  men 
of  Religion,  '  My  Lord,'  said  he,  '  I  see  many  more  folk  of 
Religion  in  the  King's  court  and  in  his  company  than  should  of 
right  be  there ' ;  and  then  '  First  of  all,'  said  he,  '  1  say  that 
such  are  not  in  the  way  of  salvation,  nor  can  they  be,  unless 
Holy  Scripture  lie.  For  Holy  Scripture  saith  that  the  monk 
cannot  live  out  of  his  cloister  without  mortal  sin,  even  as  the 
fish  cannot  live  without  water.^^  And  if  the  Religious  who  are 
with  the  King  say  that  his  court  is  a  cloister,  then  I  tell  them  it 
is  the  widest  that  ever  I  saw ;  for  it  stretches  from  this  side  of 
the  gi-eat  sea  to  the  other.  And  if  they  plead  that  in  this  cloister 
a  man  may  lead  a  hard  life  to  save  his  soul,  therein  I  believe 
them  not ;  for  I  tell  you  that  I  have  eaten  with  them  great  plenty 
of  divers  flesh-meats,  and  drunken  of  good  wines,  both  strong 
and  clear  ;  wherefore  I  am  assured  that  if  they  had  been  in 
their  cloister  they  would  not  have  been  so  at  their  ease  as  they 
now  are  at  the  King's  court.'  Then  in  his  sermon  he  taught 
the  King  how  he  should  hold  himself  to  please  his  people  ;  and 
at  the  end  of  his  sermon  he  said  that  he  had  read  the  Bible  and 
all  the  books  that  go  against  the  Bible  ;  and  never  had  he  found, 
whether  in  believers'  books  or  in  unbelievers',  that  any  kingdom 
or  lordship  was  ever  ruined  or  ever  changed  its  lord,  but  by  reason 
of  defect  of  justice :  'Wherefore'  said  he  'let  the  King  look 
well  to  it,  since  he  is  returning  to  his  kingdom  of  France,  that 
he  render  his  folk  such  justice  as  to  keep  God's  love,  that  God 
may  never  take  the  kingdom  from  him  so  long  as  he  is  alive  ! ' 
So  I,  Joinville,  told  the  King  that  he  should  not  let  this  man  quit 
his  company,  if  by  any  means  he  might  keep  him  :  but  he 
answered  '  I  have  already  prayed  him,  and  he  will  do  nought 
for  me.  '  Come,'  said  he,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  '  let  us  go  and 
pray  him  once  more.'  We  came  to  him  and  I  said  to  him, 
'  Sir,  do  as  my  Lord  the  King  hath  prayed  you,  to  abide  with 
him  while  he  is  yet  in  Provence.'  And  he  answered  me  in  great 
wrath,  '  Be  sure.  Sir,  that  I  will  not  do  so  :  for  1  shall  go  to  a 
place  where  God  will  love  me  better  than  He  would  love  me  in 
King's  company.'  One  day  he  tarried  with  us,  and  on  the 
morrow  he  went  his  way.  They  have  told  me  since  that  he  heth 
buried  in  the  city  of  Marseilles,  where  he  worketh  many  fair 
miracles."  A  fine,  sturdy  John-Baptist  of  a  friar,  this  :  but 
how  will  he  suit  our  chronicler,  who  is  so  far  from  sharing  his 
abhorrence  of  dehcate  fare  and  choice  wines  in  Kings'  houses  ? 
Excellently,  according  to  Salimbene's  own  account ;  nor  is 
there  any  reason  to  doubt  his  word.     To  begin  with  they  had 


Wanderjahre.  1 45 

common  friends  and  strong  common  interests :  for  Joachism 
was  a  powerful  freemasonry  in  the  thirteenth  century.  More- 
over, Salimbene  was  one  of  those  who,  without  great  pretensions 
to  superior  personal  sanctity,  are  yet  so  sympathetic  and  sociable 
that  the  most  intractable  saints  suffer  their  company  as  gladly  as 
Johnson  suffered  Boswell's.  Our  friar,  like  so  many  others, 
constantly  plumed  himself  on  the  theoretical  strictness  of  that 
Rule  which  in  practice  he  interpreted  so  liberally ;  and  he  took 
just  the  same  aesthetic  delight  in  the  rugged  sanctity  of  his  friend. 
So  from  Aries  he  went  to  Marseilles  (226)  "  and  thence  to 
see  Brother  Hugues  de  Barjols,  or  de  Digne,  whom  the  Lombards 
call  Brother  Hugh  of  Montpellier.  He  was  one  of  the  greatest 
and  most  learned  clerks  in  the  world,  a  most  famous  preacher, 
beloved  of  clergy  and  layfolk  alike,  and  a  most  excellent  disputant, 
ready  for  all  questions.  He  would  entangle  and  confound  all 
men  in  argument ;  for  he  had  a  most  eloquent  tongue,  and  a 
voice  as  a  ringing  trumpet,  or  mighty  thunder,  or  the  sound  of 
many  waters  falling  from  a  cliff.  He  never  tripped  or  stumbled, 
but  was  ever  ready  with  an  answer  for  all.  He  spake  marvellously 
of  the  Court  of  Heaven,  and  the  glories  of  Paradise,  and  most 
terribly  of  the  pains  of  hell.  He  was  of  middling  stature,  and 
somewhat  swarthy  of  hue — a  man  spiritual  beyond  measure,  so 
that  he  seemed  a  second  Paul  or  Elisha  ;  for  in  his  days  he  feared 
neither  principalities  nor  powers ;  none  ever  conquered  him  or 
overcame  him  in  word.  For  he  spake  in  full  consistory  to  the 
Pope  and  his  Cardinals  as  he  might  have  spoken  to  boys  as- 
sembled in  school ;  both  at  the  Council  of  Lyons,  and  aforetime 
when  the  Court  was  at  Rome  :  and  all  trembled  as  a  reed  trembles 
in  the  water.  For  once  being  asked  by  the  Cardinals  what  sort 
of  tidings  he  had,  he  rated  them  like  asses,  saying,  '  I  have  no 
tidings,  but  I  have  full  peace,  both  with  my  conscience  and  with 
God,  which  passeth  all  imderstanding,  and  keepeth  my  heart 
and  mind  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  know  in  truth  that  ye  seek  new 
tidings,  and  are  busy  about  such  things  all  day  long,  for  ye  are 
Athenians,  and  no  disciples  of  Christ.' "  This  little  incident 
forms  a  living  commentary  upon  one  of  the  precepts  most 
frequently  insisted  upon  in  the  Franciscan  disciplinary  writings. 
The  friar  of  Shakespeare's  plays — a  sort  of  walking  newspaper 
and  ready  dens  ex  machina  for  any  innocent  little  plot  that  may 
be  on  foot— the  indispensable  confidant  in  all  family  matters, 
from  the  least  to  the  greatest — was  already  fully  developed  in 
St.  Bonaventura's  time,  and  was  the  bugbear  of  the  convent 
authorities,  since  he  brought  into  the  Order  the  oft-forbidden 
"  familiarities   with   women,"   together   with  all  sorts  of  other 


146  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

purely  worldly  interests.  To  take  only  one  quotation  out  of 
many  from  the  "  Mirror  of  Novices "  (p.  239)  ;  "  Study  thy 
whole  life  long,  so  far  as  thou  well  mayest,  to  avoid  familiarities 
with  secular  persons ;  for  they  are  '  a  perverse  generation  and 
unfaithful  children,'  as  the  Scripture  saith.  And  when  thou 
art  brought  among  them  by  the  compulsion  of  necessity  or 
[spiritual]  profit,  beware  lest  thou  ever  speak  with  them  any 
but  profitable  and  honest  words ;  and  if  they  themselves  speak 
of  secular  matters,  or  of  the  wars,  or  of  other  unprofitable 
things,  never  follow  them  even  though  thou  know  of  these 
matters,  but  say  with  the  Prophet  'That  my  mouth  may  not 
speak  the  works  of  men.'  .  .  .  Moreover,  flee  from  women,  so 
far  as  in  thee  lieth,  as  thou  wouldst  flee  from  serpents,  never 
speaking  with  them  but  under  compulsion  of  urgent  necessity ; 
nor  ever  look  in  any  woman's  face ;  and  if  a  woman  speak  to 
thee,  circumcise  thy  words  most  straitly,  for  as  the  Prophet 
saith  '  Her  words  are  smoother  than  oil,  and  the  same  are  darts.'  " 
The  rest  of  Hugh's  long  speech  to  the  Cardinals,  vivid  as  its 
interest  is  for  the  student  of  medieval  manners,  belongs  rather 
to  another  place  :^^  as  indeed  Salimbene  himself  must  have 
realized  by  the  time  he  had  come  to  the  end  of  it :  for  he  exclaims 
again  "  Blessed  be  God  that  1  am  at  last  at  the  end  of  this 
matter  ! " 

He  goes  on  to  enumerate  Hugh's  special  friends  :  (232)  the 
first  was  John  of  Parma,  "  for  whose  love  he  became  my  familiar 
friend  also,  and  because  I  seemed  to  believe  in  the  writings  of 
Abbot  Joachim  of  Fiore."  The  second  was  the  Archbishop 
of  Vienne ;  the  third,  Grosseteste,  Bishop  of  Lincoln ;  the 
fourth,  Adam  Marsh,  the  great  Oxford  scholar  and  adviser  of 
Simon  de  Montfort.  While  Salimbene  was  a  youthful  convert 
at  Siena  he  had  already  met  Hugh,  whose  eloquence  and 
readiness  in  disputation  had  electrified  him  (233).  Our 
chronicler  had  again  heard  him  preach  on  a  solemn  occasion 
at  Lucca:  (234)  for  "it  chanced  that  1  came  thither  from 
Pistoia  at  the  very  hour  at  which  he  must  needs  go  to  the 
Cathedral  Church,  and  the  whole  convent  was  gathered  together 
to  go  with  him.  But  he,  seeing  the  Brethren  without  the  gate, 
marvelled  and  said,  '  Ha  !  God  !  Whither  would  these  men  go  ? ' 
And  it  was  answered  him  that  the  Brethren  did  thus  for  his 
honour,  and  for  that  they  would  fain  hear  him  preach.  So  he 
said  *  1  need  no  such  honour,  for  I  am  not  the  Pope  ;  but  if  they 
will  hear  me,  let  them  follow  when  I  am  entered  into  the  church  ; 
for  I  will  go  on  with  a  single  comrade,  and  not  with  this  multitude.' 
Brother   Hugh   therefore  preached   with  such   edification   and 


Wanderjahre.  1 47 

comfort  of  his  hearers  that  the  clergy  of  the  Bishopric  of 
Lucca  were  wont  to  say  many  years  after  how  they  had  never 
heard  a  man  speak  so  well ;  for  the  others  had  recited  their 
sermons  even  as  a  psalm  which  they  might  have  learnt  by  heart. 
And  they  loved  and  revered  the  whole  Order  for  his  sake.  Another 
time  I  heard  him  preach  to  the  people  in  Provence,  at  Tarascon 
on  the  Rhone,  at  which  sermon  were  men  and  women  of  Tarascon 
and  Beaucaire,  (which  are  two  most  noble  towns  lying  side  by 
side,  with  the  river  Rhone  between ;  and  in  each  town  is  a  fair 
convent  of  the  Brethren  Minor).  And  he  said  to  them  (as  I 
heard  with  mine  own  ears)  words  of  edification,  useful  words, 
honeyed  words,  words  of  salvation.  And  they  heard  him  gladly, 
as  a  John  the  Baptist,  for  they  held  him  for  a  Prophet.  These 
things  find  no  credence  with  men  who  are  themselves  deprived 
of  such  grace  ;  yet  it  is  most  ridiculous  if  I  will  not  believe  that 
there  is  any  Bishop  or  any  Pope  because  I  myself  am  not  a 
Bishop  or  a  Pope  !  Moreover,  at  the  court  of  the  Count  of 
Provence  was  a  certain  Riniero,  a  Pisan  by  birth,  who  called 
himself  an  universal  philosopher,  and  who  so  confounded  the 
judges  and  notaries  and  physicians  of  the  Court  that  no  man 
could  live  there  in  honour.  Wherefore  they  expounded  their 
tribulation  to  Brother  Hugh,  that  he  might  vouchsafe  to  succour 
and  defend  them  from  this  bitter  enemy.  So  he  made  answer : 
'  Order  ye  with  the  Count  a  day  for  disputation  in  the  palace, 
and  let  knights  and  nobles,  judges  and  notaries  and  physicians 
be  there  present,  and  dispute  ye  with  him  ;  and  then  let  the 
Count  send  for  me,  and  I  will  prove  to  them  by  demonstration 
that  this  man  is  an  ass,  and  that  the  sky  is  a  frying-pan.'  All 
this  was  so  ordered,  and  Brother  Hugh  so  involved  and  entangled 
him  in  his  own  words  that  he  was  ashamed  to  remain  at  the 
Count's  court,  and  withdrew  without  taking  leave  of  his  host; 
nor  did  he  ever  dare  thereafter  to  dwell  there,  or  even  to  show 
his  face.  For  he  was  a  great  sophist,  and  thought  within  himself 
to  entangle  all  others  in  his  sophistries.  Brother  Hugh  therefore 
'delivered  the  poor  from  the  mighty,  and  the  needy  that  had 
no  helper ; '  and  they  kissed  his  hands  and  feet.  Note  that 
this  aforesaid  Count  was  called  Raymond  Berenger,  {Paradiso^ 
vi,  134),  a  comely  man,  and  a  friend  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and 
father  to  the  Queens  of  France  and  of  England.  Moreover,  in 
Provence  there  is  a  certain  most  populous  town  named  Hy^res, 
where  is  a  great  multitude  of  men  and  women  doing  penitence 
even  in  worldly  habit  in  their  own  houses.  These  are  strictly 
devoted  to  the  Friars  Minor ;  for  the  Friars  Preachers  have  no 
convent  there,  since  they  are  pleased  and  comforted  to  dwell  in 


148  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

great  convents  rather  than  in  small.  In  this  town  Brother  Hugh 
lived  most  gladly,  and  there  were  many  notaries  and  judges  and 
physicians  and  other  learned  men,  who  on  solemn  days  would 
assemble  in  his  chamber  to  hear  him  speak  of  the  doctrine  of 
Abbot  Joachim,  or  expound  the  mysteries  of  Holy  Scripture,  or 
foretell  the  future.  For  he  was  a  great  Joachite,  and  had  all  the 
works  of  Abbot  Joachim  written  in  great  letters  :  and  I  myself 
also  was  there  to  hear  him  teach." 

These  Franciscan  Tertiaries  of  whom  Salimbene  speaks  were 
the  nucleus  of  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  famous  Beguinages, 
under  the  direction  of  Hugh's  sister  St.  Douceline,  of  whom 
Salimbene  gives  a  brief  account  lower  down  (554).  "  In  another 
stone  chest  by  Brother  Hugh's  side  is  buried  his  sister  in  the 
flesh,  the  Lady  Douceline,  whose  fame  God  likewise  showed 
forth  by  miracles.  She  never  entered  any  religious  Order,  but 
ever  lived  chastely  and  righteously  in  the  World.  She  chose 
for  her  spouse  the  Son  of  God,  and  for  the  saint  of  her  special 
devotion  the  blessed  Francis,  whose  cord  she  wore  round  her 
body ;  and  almost  all  day  long  she  prayed  in  the  church  of  the 
Friars  Minor.  There  was  none  who  spoke  or  thought  evil  of 
her ;  for  men  and  women,  religious  and  layfolk,  honoured  her 
for  her  exceeding  sanctity.  She  had  of  God  a  special  grace  of 
ecstasies,  as  the  Friars  saw  a  thousand  times  in  their  church. 
If  they  raised  her  arm,  she  would  keep  it  thus  raised  from  morning 
to  evening,  for  she  was  wholly  absorbed  in  God  :  and  this  was 
spread  abroad  through  the  whole  city  of  Marseilles,  and  through 
other  cities  also.  She  was  followed  by  eighty  noble  ladies  of 
Marseilles,  of  middle  and  of  higher  rank,  who  would  fain  save 
their  souls  after  her  example ;  and  she  was  lady  and  mistress  of 
them  all."  Of  this  saint,  her  asceticism  and  her  trances,  and  the 
wonderful  power  over  others  which  she  found  in  her  single- 
hearted  devotion  to  God,  the  reader  may  find  a  full  account  in 
Albanes'  edition  and  translation  of  the  thirteenth-century  life 
by  one  of  her  disciples,  and  in  a  recent  essay  by  Miss  Macdonell. 

Here  then  dwelt  Salimbene,  for  the  second  time  in  his  life,  in 
an  atmosphere  of  the  most  contagious  religious  enthusiasm, 
thoroughly  enjoying  it  all,  and  yet  saved  by  his  critical  faculty 
(as  we  shall  presently  see)  from  being  swept  off  his  legs  altogether. 
It  is  not  difficult,  1  think,  to  trace  in  his  history  a  very  usual 
type  of  religious  development.  The  Alleluia  of  1233  marked 
his  conversion,  his  first  realization  of  a  life  to  come ;  an  over- 
powering appeal  to  his  feelings  while  his  intellect  was  as  yet 
utterly  undeveloped.  Now,  as  an  impressionable  and  (for  his 
age)  highly  educated  young  man,  he  is  brought  into  close  contact 


Wanderjahre.  149 

with  a  party  leader  of  intense  magnetic  power,  from  whom, 
and  from  others  of  the  same  party,  he  imbibes  a  new  and 
starthng  theory  of  Church  statesmanship,  and  a  philosophy  of 
history  which,  even  after  experience  had  proved  its  partial 
falsehood,  was  so  noble  and  true  that  it  could  not  fail  to  influence 
all  the  rest  of  his  life.  Even  in  the  ashes  of  Salimbene's  old 
age  lived  the  wonted  fires  of  Joachism  :  after  all  his  disillusions, 
and  even  through  his  period  of  antagonism  to  his  old  comrades, 
he  was  always  a  different  man  for  having  once  accepted  this 
13th-century  "Theory  of  Development."  It  is  this  which 
gives  much  of  its  charm  to  his  book :  one  feels  the  mellow 
judgment  of  a  man  who,  (to  put  it  in  terms  of  our  own  age), 
after  having  been  "  converted  "  as  a  boy  in  the  Evangelical 
sense — after  having  been  carried  away  at  Oxford  by  Newman — 
has  gradually  settled  down  to  views  more  consonant  with  the 
facts  of  human  life  than  that  earlier  intense  Tractarianism, 
and  yet  Tractarian  in  their  sense  of  an  eternal  purpose  for  the 
Church  amid  the  perlexing  phenomena  of  daily  life. 


Chapter  XIII. 
Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development* 

HOW  is  it  that  Dante  assigned  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
places  in  his  Paradise  to  a  visionary,  one  of  whose  most 
important  writings  had  been  solemnly  condemned  by  Innocent 
III  at  the  great  Lateran  Council,  and  thought  worthy  of 
an  elaborate  refutation  by  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  ?  It  is  not 
sufficient  to  say  that  Dante  claimed  in  his  poem  an  unusual 
liberty  of  private  judgment ;  for  three  popes  had  patronized 
Joachim  even  in  his  lifetime  ;  and,  strangest  of  all,  his  most 
dangerous  speculations  were  never  definitely  condemned,  even 
after  they  had  been  pushed  to  what  seems  their  only  legitimate 
conclusion,  in  a  book  which  raised  a  storm  throughout  Latin 
Christendom.  The  real  explanation  of  so  strange  a  paradox  is 
to  be  found  in  that  comparative  freedom  of  thought  which  makes 
the  13th  century,  especially  in  Italy,  so  living  a  period  in  the 
history  of  the  pre-reformation  Church.  Dante,  in  fact,  caused 
as  little  scandal  by  promoting  Joachim  to  a  high  place  in  heaven 
as  by  degrading  a  canonized  pope,  Celestine  V,  to  one  of  the  most 
contemptible  corners  of  the  lower  regions.  The  rigid  framework 
and  the  inexorable  discipline  of  the  modern  Roman  Church  are 
mainly  the  work  of  the  Counter-Reformation ;  and  the  records 
of  the  13th  century  show  us,  beneath  much  orthodox  intolerance, 
an  irrepressible  diversity  of  religious  life  which  in  many  essential 
respects  reminds  us  rather  of  Anglicanism.  The  Church,  as  it 
embraced  the  whole  population,  embraced  also  every  type  of 
mind,  from  the  most  superstitious  to  the  most  agnostic  :  and 
many  of  these  unorthodox  elements  worked  far  more  freely, 
under  the  cloak  of  outward  conformity,  than  is  generally  supposed. 
Almost  all  variations  of  opinion  were  tolerated,  so  long  as  their 
outward  expression  was  fairly  discreet :  partly,  no  doubt,  because 
the  machinery  of  repression  was  as  yet  imperfect ;  but  partly 
also  because  there  was  too  much  life  and  growth  to  be  easily 
repressed.  It  was  far  less  dangerous  to  hint  that  Rome  was  the 
Scarlet  Woman,  as  Joachim  did ;  or  again  (with  certain  friars 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.  1 5 1 

of  whom  Eccleston  tells  us),  to  debate  in  the  Schools  "  whether 
God  really  existed,"^  than  to  wear  publicly  and  pertinaciously  a 
frock  and  cowl  of  any  but  the  orthodox  cut.  Joachim's  book 
against  Peter  Lombard  was  condemned  as  a  public  attack  on  a 
pillar  of  the  Schools  ;  his  evolutionary  speculations  were  treated 
leniently  because  any  other  course  would  have  enabled  the 
secular  clergy  to  triumph  over  the  Friars,  and  no  pope  could 
aiFord  to  lose  the  support  of  the  two  Orders. 

The  story  of  the  Abbot  Joachim  is  admirably  told  by  JEtenan, 
Gebhart,  Tocco,  Father  Denifle,  and  Dr.  Lea  :  a  summary  of 
these  by  Miss  Troutbeck  appeared  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 
for  July  1902.  Born  about  1132  in  Calabria,  where  Roman 
religious  ideas  were  leavened  with  Greek  and  even  Saracen 
elements  :  by  turns  a  courtier,  a  traveller,  an  active  missionary, 
and  a  contemplative  hermit,  he  has  been  claimed  with  some 
justice  as  a  sort  of  St.  John  Baptist  to  the  Franciscan  movement : 
and  he  may  be  called  with  almost  equal  truth  its  St.  John  the 
Divine  also.  The  hateful  and  notorious  corruption  of  the  Church, 
which  impelled  Francis  to  found  his  Order,  had  previously  driven 
Joachim  into  an  attempt  to  interpret  the  world's  history  in  the 
light  of  Scripture.  He  found  the  solution  of  present  evils  in  a 
theory  of  gradual  decay  and  renewal,  elaborated  from  St. 
Augustine's  philosophy  of  history.  The  visible  Church,  in 
Joachim's  system,  was  no  temple  of  stone,  but  a  shifting  taber- 
nacle in  this  worldly  wilderness ;  pitched  here  to-night,  but 
destined  to  be  folded  up  with  to-morrow's  dawn,  and  carried  one 
stage  onward  with  an  advancing  world.  As  Salimbene  puts  it 
(466)  ;  "  he  divides  the  world  into  a  threefold  state ;  for  in  the 
first  state  the  Father  worked  in  mystery  through  the  patriarchs 
and  sons  of  the  prophets,  although  the  works  of  the  Trinity  are 
indivisible.  In  the  second  state  the  Son  worked  through  the 
Apostles  and  other  apostolic  men ;  of  which  state  He  saith  in 
John  '  My  Father  worketh  until  now,  and  I  work.'  In  the  third 
state  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  work  through  the  Religious."  In 
other  words,  the  first  state  of  the  Church  was  taught  by  the 
Father  through  the  Old  Testament ;  the  second  state  by  the  Son 
through  the  New  Testament ;  the  third  state  (which  maybe  said 
in  one  sense  to  have  begun  with  St.  Benedict)  shall  be  taught  by 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Not  that  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  are  to 
be  abrogated,  or  that  a  new  Bible  shall  be  revealed  ;  but  that 
men's  eyes  shall  be  opened  by  the  Spirit  to  see  a  new  revelation 
in  the  time-honoured  scriptures  — an  Eternal  Gospel,  proceeding 
from  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  as  its  Author  the  Holy  Spirit 
proceeds  from  the  Father  and  the  Son.     And  to  these  threefold 


152 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


stages  of  inspiration  correspond  three  orders  of  missionaries  : 
first,  the  patriarchs  and  prophets  :  secondly,  the  Apostles  and 
their  successors  the  clergy  :  the  third  era  of  the  Church  shall  be 
an  era  of  hermits,  monks,  and  nuns,  not  superseding  the  present 
hierarchy,  but  guiding  it  into  new  ways.  Further,  like  nearly 
all  the  prophets  of  this  age,  Joachim  argued  from  the  corruption 
of  the  then  world  to  the  imminence  of  Antichrist,  of  the  Battle 
of  Armageddon,  and  of  all  the  convulsions  foretold  in  the 
Apocalypse  as  preceding  the  Reign  of  the  Saints. 

It  is  obvious  how  these  prophecies  would  be  caught  at  by  all 
who  felt  deeply  the  miseries  caused  by  the  wars  between  Pope 
and  Emperor  ;  and  how  to  all  good  Guelfs  Frederick  would  seem 
a  very  sufficient  Antichrist.  The  Friars,  too,  had  every  reason 
to  welcome  prophecies  of  a  millennium  to  be  heralded  by  new 
Orders  of  surpassing  holiness  and  authority  :  and  the  spiritual 
Franciscans  especially  found  in  Joachism  the  promise  of  a  reign 
of  glory  after  their  bitter  persecutions  of  the  present  time.  Here 
therefore  was  plenty  of  material  for  a  great  conflagration,  to 
which  the  match  was  set  by  one  of  Salimbene's  friends,  Gerard 
of  Borgo  San  Donnino.  Appointed  professor  of  theology  at  Paris 
about  1250,  he  published  four  years  later  an  Introduction  to  the 
Eternal  Gospel,  containing  one  of  Joachim's  best-known  works, 
with  a  preface  and  notes  of  his  own.  The  work  created  an 
instant  sensation,  and  was  eagerly  read  by  the  laity.  The  saintly 
John  of  Parma,  General  of  the  Franciscans  and  himself  a  strong 
Joachite,  certainly  took  no  steps  to  punish  the  writer,  and  was 
himself  often  credited  with  the  authorship.  But  the  University 
of  Paris,  delighted  to  find  a  handle  against  the  unpopular  friars, 
took  the  matter  up.  There  seems  no  doubt  that  this  book 
pressed  Joachim's  theories  to  the  anti sacerdotal  conclusions 
which  they  would  seem  legitimately  to  bear,  but  which  Joachim 
himself  had  studiously  avoided.  Gerard  regarded  the  sacraments 
as  transitory  symbols,  to  be  set  aside  under  the  reign  of  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  and  he  predicted  that  the  Abomination  of  Desolation 
should  be  a  simoniacal  pope  shortly  to  come  —a  prediction  of 
which  many  saw  the  fulfilment  forty  years  later  in  Boniface  VIII. 
Gerard  was  further  accused,  we  cannot  tell  now  with  what  justice, 
of  seeing  in  St.  Francis  a  new  Christ  who  was  to  supersede  the 
Christ  of  the  Second  Age.  Speculations  like  this,  published  in 
the  very  Schools  of  Paris,  could  not  be  allowed  to  pass  uncon- 
demned :  and  the  matter  was  brought  in  1 255  before  a  Papal 
Commission  :  Gerard's  work  was  condemned  and  suppressed,  and 
exists  at  present  only  in  the  extracts  singled  out  by  his  accusers. 
This  event,  as  we  have  seen,  brought  about  the  fall  of  John  of 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         i  ^2 

Parma.  Yet,  all  through  this  storm,  Joachim's  own  prophecies 
were  never  condemned  ;  the  whole  atFair  was  hushed  up  as  quietly 
as  possible,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  Franciscan  Order,  but 
because  there  were  so  many  others  who  had  long  held  .Joachim  for 
a  prophet,  feeling  with  him  that  traditional  Christianity  was  a 
failure,  and  that  an  altogether  new  world  was  needed  for  its  re- 
newal. The  immense  popularity  of  his  prophecies — which  were 
quoted  as  authoritative  by  Roman  Catholic  divines  even  in  the 
1 7th  century — goes  far  to  explain  many  of  the  strangest  religious 
phenomena  recorded  by  Salimbene.  He  himself  believed  to  the 
end  in  Joachim  as  a  prophet,  even  after  he  had  long  given  up 
Joachism  in  the  strictest  sense. 

He  had  received  his  first  tinge  of  Joachism  from  Hugues  de 
Digue  at  Siena,  and  was  confirmed  in  this  creed  at  Pisa  by  an 
Abbot  of  the  Order  of  Fiore,  and  by  his  own  Franciscan  Lector 
there.  Again,  at  the  very  beginning  of  these  his  wander-years, 
in  December  1247,  he  had  been  brought  under  the  immediate 
influence  of  the  future  author  of  the  notorious  "  Introduction." 
(237)  "When  King  Louis  was  on  his  first  passage  to  succour  the 
Holy  Land,  and  I  dwelt  at  Provins,  there  were  two  brethren 
wholly  given  to  Joachism,  who  essayed  all  they  could  to  draw 
me  to  that  doctrine.  Whereof  one  was  Brother  Bartolommeo 
Guiscolo,  of  my  own  city  of  Parma,  a  courteous  and  spiritual 
man,  but  a  great  talker  and  a  great  Joachite,  and  devoted  to  the 
Emperor's  party.  He  was  once  Guardian  in  the  Convent  of 
Capua  :  he  was  most  active  in  all  his  works.  In  the  world  he 
had  taught  grammar,  but  in  our  Order  he  knew  to  copy,  to 
illuminate,  to  compose  writings,  and  to  do  many  other  things. 
In  his  lifetime  he  did  marvels,  and  in  his  death  he  worked  still 
more  marvellously  ;  for  he  saw  such  things  when  his  soul  went 
forth  from  his  body,  that  all  the  Brethren  present  were  in 
admiration.  The  other  was  Brother  Gerardino  of  Borgo  San 
Donnino,  who  had  grown  up  in  Sicily,  and  had  taught  grammar, 
and  was  a  well-mannered  youth,  honest  and  good,  save  for  this  one 
thing,  that  he  persevered  too  obstinately  in  .Joachim's  doctrine, 
and  clung  so  to  his  own  opinion  that  none  could  move  him. 
These  two  lay  hard  upon  me  that  I  should  believe  the  writings 
of  Abbot  Joachim  and  study  in  them  ;  for  they  had  Joachim's 
exposition  on  .Teremias^'  and  many  other  books.  And  when 
the  King  of  France  in  those  days  was  preparing  to  cross  the  seas 
with  other  Crusaders,  they  mocked  and  derided,  saying  that  he 
would  fare  ill  if  he  went,  as  the  event  showed  afterwards.  And 
they  showed  me  that  it  was  thus  written  in  Joachim's  exposition 
on  Jeremias,  and  therefore  that  we  must  expect  its  fulfilment. 


I  ^4  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

And  whereas  throughout  the  whole  of  France  all  that  year  men 
sang  dally  in  their  conventual  Masses  the  psalm  *  O  God,  the 
heathens  are  come  into  thy  inheritance,'  yet  these  two  scoffed 
and  said  in  the  words  of  Jeremiah  ' "  Thou  hast  set  a  cloud  before 
thee,  that  our  prayer  may  not  pass  through  " ;  for  the  King  of 
France  shall  be  taken,  and  the  French  shall  be  conquered  in  war, 
and  many  shall  be  carried  off'  by  the  plague.'  Wherefore  they 
were  made  hateful  to  the  Brethren  of  France,  who  said  that 
these  evil  prophecies  had  been  fulfilled  on  the  former  Crusade. 
There  was  at  that  time  in  the  convent  of  Provins  a  Lector  named 
Brother  Maurice,  a  comely  man,  and  noble,  and  most  learned,  who 
had  studied  much,  first  in  the  World,  at  Paris,  and  then  eight 
years  in  our  Order.  He  had  lately  become  my  friend,  and  he  said 
to  me  :  'Brother  Salimbene,  have  no  faith  in  these  Joachites,  for 
they  trouble  the  Brethren  with  their  doctrines ;  but  help  me  in 
writing,  for  I  would  fain  make  a  good  Book  of  Distinctions, 
which  will  be  most  useful  for  preachers.' 

"  Then  the  Joachites  separated  of  their  own  free  will ;  for  I 
went  to  dwell  at  Auxerre,  Brother  Bartolommeo  to  dwell  in  the 
convent  of  Sens,  Brother  Gerardino  was  sent  to  Paris  to  study  for 
the  Province  of  Sicily,  on  behalf  of  which  he  had  been  received 
into  the  Order.  And  there  he  studied  four  years,  and  thought 
out  his  folly,  composing  a  book,  and  publishing  it  abroad  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  Brethren.  And  because  for  this  book's 
sake  the  Order  was  evil-spoken  of  both  at  Paris  and  elsewhere, 
therefore  the  aforesaid  Gerardino  was  deprived  of  his  offices  of 
Lector  and  Preacher,  and  of  the  power  of  hearing  confessions, 
and  of  all  priestly  powers.  And  because  he  would  not  amend 
himself  and  humbly  acknowledge  his  fault,  but  with  wayward 
obstinacy  persevered  in  his  headstrong  contumacy,  therefore 
the  Brethren  cast  him  into  prison  and  bonds,  feeding  him  with 
bread  of  affliction  and  water  of  distress.  Yet  not  even  then 
would  this  wretch  withdraw  from  his  obstinate  purpose ;  but  he 
suff'ered  himself  to  die  in  prison,  and  was  deprived  of  the  burial 
of  the  Church  and  buried  in  a  corner  of  the  garden.  Let  all 
know,  therefore,  that  due  rigour  of  justice  is  kept  among  us  against 
all  that  transgress  :  wherefore  one  man's  fault  is  not  to  be  imputed 
to  the  whole  Order.^ 

"  So  when  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1248  I  was  at  Hyeres  with 
Brother  Hugh  (seeing  that  1  was  curious  of  the  teaching  of  Abbot 
tloachim,  and  gladly  heard  him,  applauding  and  rejoicing  with 
him),  he  said  to  me,  *  Art  thou  infatuated  as  those  who  follow 
this  doctrine  ?  '  For  they  are  indeed  held  infatuated  by  many, 
since  although  Abbot  Joachim  was  a  holy  man,  yet  he  had  three 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         1 5  5 

hindrances  to  his  doctrine.  The  first  was  the  condemnation  of 
that  book  which  he  wrote  against  Master  Peter  Lombard,  whom 
he  charged  with  heresy  and  madness.  The  second  was  that  he 
foretold  tribulations  to  come,  which  was  the  cause  why  the  Jews 
slew  the  Prophets,  for  carnal  men  love  not  to  hear  of  tribulations 
to  come.  The  third  hindrance  came  from  men  who  believed  in 
him,  but  who  would  fain  forestall  the  times  and  seasons  which 
he  had  prescribed  :  for  he  fixed  no  certain  terms  of  years  though 
some  may  think  so.  Rather,  he  named  several  terms,  saying, 
'  God  is  able  to  show  His  mysteries  yet  more  clearly,  and  they 
shall  see  who  come  after  us.^ ' 

"  Now  when  1  saw  that  judges  and  notaries  and  other  learned 
men  were  gathered  together  in  Brother  Hugh's  chamber  to  hear 
him  teach  the  doctrine  of  Abbot  Joachim,  1  remembered  Eliseus, 
of  whom  it  is  written  'But  Eliseus  sat  in  his  house,  and  the 
ancients  sat  with  him.'  In  those  days  there  came  two  other 
Joachites  of  the  convent  of  Naples,  whereof  one  was  called 
Brother  John  the  Frenchman,  the  other  Brother  Giovannino 
Pigolino  of  Parma.  These  had  come  to  Hyeres  to  see  Brother 
Hugh  and  hear  him  speak  on  this  Doctrine.  Then  also  came 
two  Friars  Preachers  returning  from  their  General  Chapter  at 
Paris,  whereof  the  one  was  called  Brother  Peter  of  Apulia,  the 
Lector  of  their  Order  at  Naples,  and  a  learned  man  and  a  great 
talker ;  and  he  was  waiting  a  fit  time  to  sail.  To  him  one  day 
after  dinner  said  Brother  Giovannino,  who  knew  him  very  well, 
'  Brother  Peter,  what  thinkest  thou  of  the  doctrine  of  Abbot 
Joachim  ?  '  To  which  he  answered,  '  I  care  as  little  for  Joachim 
as  for  the  fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon ;  for  even  Pope  Gregory  in 
one  of  his  homilies  believed  that  the  end  of  the  world  would  come 
almost  in  his  own  time,  since  the  Lombards  had  come  in  his  days 
and  were  destroying  all  things.'  Brother  Giovannino  therefore 
hastened  to  Brother  Hugh's  chamber,  and  in  the  presence  of  those 
aforesaid  men  said  to  him,  '  Here  is  a  certain  Friar  Preacher  who 
will  have  nothing  of  this  doctrine.'  To  whom  Brother  Hugh 
said,  *  What  is  that  to  me  ?  To  him  shall  it  be  imputed.  Let 
him  look  to  it  when  "  vexation  alone  shall  make  him  understand 
what  he  hears."  Yet  call  him  to  disputation  and  I  will  hear  his 
doubts.'  So  he  came,  but  unwillingly,  for  he  despised  Joachim, 
and  deemed  that  there  were  none  in  our  convent  to  be  compared 
with  himself  in  learning  or  in  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures. 
Brother  Hugh  said  to  him,  'Art  thou  he  who  doubts  of  the 
doctrine  of  Joachim?'  Brother  Peter  answered,  'I  am  he 
indeed.'  '  Hast  thou  then  read  Joachim  ?  '  *  I  have  read  him,' 
said  he,  '  with  care.'     '  Yea,'  said  Brother  Hugh,  *  I  believe  thou 


156  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

hast  read  him  as  a  woman  her  Psalter,  who  when  she  is  come  to 
the  end  knows  and  remembers  no  word  of  that  which  she  read 
at  the  beginning.  So  many  read  without  understanding,  either 
because  they  despise  what  they  read,  or  because  their  foolish 
heart  is  darkened.  Tell  me  now  what  thou  wouldest  hear  of 
Joachim.'  To  whom  Brother  Peter  answered,  'Prove  me  now 
by  Esaias,  as  Joachim  teacheth,  that  the  life  of  the  Emperor 
Frederick  must  be  ended  in  seventy  years  (for  he  liveth  yet)  : 
and  that  he  cannot  be  slain  but  by  God — that  is,  by  no  violent, 
but  by  a  natural  death.'  To  whom  Brother  Hugh  said, '  Gladly  ; 
but  listen  patiently,  and  with  no  declamations  or  cavils,  for  in  the 
matter  of  this  doctrine  it  behoveth  to  listen  with  faith.'  "  Here 
follows  a  discussion  so  long  that  I  am  compelled  reluctantly  to 
omit  by  far  the  greater  part  of  it :  though  it  contains  one  most 
interesting  anecdote  of  the  Saint  (240).  "As  to  the  holiness 
of  Joachim's  life,  beyond  what  is  to  be  read  in  his  Legend,  I  can 
cite  one  example  wherein  his  admirable  patience  is  shown. 
Before  he  was  made  Abbot,  when  he  was  a  subordinate  and 
private  person,  the  refectorer  was  wroth  against  him,  and  for  a 
whole  year  long  always  filled  his  jug  with  water  to  drink,  wishing 
to  keep  him  on  the  bread  of  affliction  and  water  of  distress ;  all 
which  he  bore  patiently  and  without  complaint.  But  when  at  the 
end  of  the  year  he  was  sitting  beside  the  Abbot  at  table,  the 
Abbot  said  to  him,  *  Wherefore  drinkest  thou  white  wine,  and 
givest  none  to  me  ?  Is  that  thy  courtesy  ?  '  To  whom  the  holy 
Joachim  answered,  'I  was  ashamed.  Father,  to  invite  you,  for 
"  my  own  secret  to  myself."  '  Then  the  Abbot  taking  his  cup, 
and  wishing  to  prove  him,  tasted  thereof,  and  saw  that  his  mer- 
chandise was  not  good.  So,  when  he  had  tasted  this  water  not 
turned  to  wine,  he  said,  '  And  what  is  water  but  water  ?  '  And 
he  said  to  him,  *  By  whose  leave  drinkest  thou  such  drink  ? ' 
And  Joachim  answered,  '  Father,  water  is  a  sober  drink,  which 
neither  tieth  the  tongue,  nor  bringeth  on  drunkenness,  nor  maketh 
men  to  babble.'  But  when  the  Abbot  had  learnt  in  the  Chapter- 
house that  this  injury  and  vengeance  had  been  done  of  the  malice 
and  rancour  of  the  refectorer,  he  would  have  driven  him  forth 
from  the  Order,  but  Joachim  fell  at  the  Abbot's  feet,  and  prayed 
him  until  he  spared  to  expel  that  lay-brother  from  the  Order. 
Yet  he  reviled  and  rebuked  him  hard  and  bitterly,  saying, 
*  I  give  thee  for  a  penance  that  thou  drink  nought  but  water  for 
a  whole  year  long,  as  thou  hast  dealt  unjustly  with  thy  neighbour 
and  brother.'  "  This  story  (of  which  Prof.  Holder-Egger  gives 
a  different  and  less  picturesque  version  from  Joachim's  biographer 
Luke  of  Cosenza)  was  well  worth  recording :  but  the  rest  of  this 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         1 5  7 

long  episode  is  chiefly  interesting  for  the  light  it  throws  ou 
medieval  methods  of  theological  discussion,  which  closely  resemble 
those  of  the  tavern  disputants  in  Janet's  Repentance.  Brother 
Hugh  is  as  mercilessly  rhetorical  as  Lawyer  Dempster  ;  and  to 
Salimbene,  as  to  Mr.  Budd,  the  consideration  that  his  hero  had 
"  studied  very  hard  when  he  was  a  young  man  "  and  was  always 
ready  to  answer  any  question  on  any  subject  without  the  least 
hesitation,  entirely  outweighs  the  fact  that  the  event  had  proved 
him  altogether  wrong — for  Frederick  was  now  long  since  dead,  at 
an  age  considerably  short  of  the  prophetical  seventy  years.  Brother 
Hugh's  methods,  though  every  whit  as  reasonable  as  those  of 
world-famed  controversialists  like  St.  Bernardino  of  Siena  and 
St.  James  of  the  Mark,  would  carry  but  little  conviction  to-day. 
In  vain  did  the  sceptical  Dominican  ask  for  more  real  evidence, 
and  protest  against  Merlin  and  the  Sibyl  being  quoted  as  final 
authorities :  in  vain  did  he  "  turn  to  the  original  words  of  the 
Saints  and  to  the  sayings  of  the  philosophers "  :  for  "  therein 
Brother  Hugh  entangled  and  involved  him  forthwith ;  since  he 
was  a  most  learned  man.  Then  Brother  Peter's  comrade  who 
was  a  priest  and  an  old  and  good  man,  began  to  help  him,  but 
Brother  Peter  cried  to  him  '  Peace !  Peace '  !  So  when  Brother 
Peter  found  himself  conquered,  he  turned  to  commend  Brother 
Hugh  for  his  manifold  wisdom.  And  when  the  aforesaid  words 
had  been  ended,  behold  suddenly  the  shipman's  messenger  came 
for  the  Preachers,  telling  them  to  go  hastily  to  the  ship.  So  after 
their  departure,  Brother  Hugh  said  to  the  remaining  learned  men 
who  had  heard  the  disputation,  '  Take  it  not  for  an  ill  example  if 
we  have  said  some  things  which  we  should  not  have  said  ;  for  they 
who  dispute  of  presumptuous  boldness  are  wont  to  run  hither 
and  thither  over  the  field  of  licence.'  And  Brother  Hugh  added 
*  These  good  men  always  boast  of  their  knowledge,  and  say  that 
in  their  Order  is  the  foundation  of  wisdom.  They  say  also  that 
they  have  passed  among  unlearned  men  when  they  have  passed 
through  the  convents  of  the  Friars  Minor,  wherein  they  are 
charitably  and  diligently  entertained.  But  by  God's  grace  they 
shall  not  say  this  time  that  they  have  passed  among  men  of  no 
learning,  for  I  have  done  as  the  Wise  Man  teacheth  "  Answer  a 
fool  according  to  hia  folly,  lest  he  imagine  himself  to  be  wise."  ' 
So  the  layfolk  departed  much  edified  and  consoled,  saying  '  We 
have  heard  marvels  to-day  ;  but  on  the  Feast  following  we  would 
hear  somewhat  of  the  teaching  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  To 
whom  Brother  Hugh  said,  'If  I  be  still  alive  I  will  receive  you 

fladly,  and  therefore  come  indeed.'     Moreover,  that  same  day  the 
'riars  Preachers  returned  and  solaced  themselves  with  us,  for 


I  58  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

they  had  no  fit  weather  to  sail.  And  after  supper  Brother  Hugh 
was  familiar  with  them,  and  Brother  Peter  seated  himself  on  the 
ground  at  his  feet,  nor  was  there  any  who  could  make  him  rise 
and  sit  on  a  level  bench  with  him — no,  not  even  Brother  Hugh 
himself,  though  he  prayed  him  instantly.  Moreover  Brother 
Peter,  now  no  longer  disputing  or  contradicting,  but  humbly 
listening,  heard  the  honeyed  words  which  Brother  Hugh  spake, 
(which  indeed  would  be  worthy  to  be  related  here,  but  I  omit 
them  for  brevity's  sake,  for  I  hasten  to  other  things.)  Then 
Brother  Peter's  comrade  said  to  me  in  private,  '  For  God's  sake, 
tell  me  who  is  that  Brother,  whether  he  be  a  prelate— a  Guardian, 
a  Gustos,  or  a  Minister?'  To  whom  I  said,  'He  has  no  prelacy, 
for  he  will  have  none.  Once  he  was  a  Minister-Provincial,  but 
now  he  is  a  private  person,  and  he  is  one  of  the  greatest  clerks  of 
the  world,  and  is  so  esteemed  by  all  who  know  him.'  Then  said 
he  to  me,  '  In  good  truth  I  believe  it,  for  never  did  1  see  a  man 
who  speaketh  so  well,  and  is  so  ready  in  all  knowledge.  But  I 
wonder  wherefore  he  dwelleth  not  in  great  convents.'*  To  whom 
1  said,  *  By  reason  of  his  humility  and  sanctity,  for  he  is  more 
comforted  to  dwell  in  little  houses.'  Then  said  he,  '  God's  bless- 
ing light  on  him,  for  he  seemeth  all  heavenly.'  And  after  many 
commendations  on  both  sides,  the  Friars  Preachers  departed, 
consoled  and  much  edified."' 

This  was  in  1248 :  and  Hugh's  triumphant  exposition  of 
Joachism  was  shattered  in  less  than  two  years  by  the  Emperor's 
death — not  after  1264,  as  it  should  have  been,  but  as  early  as 
1250.  No  doubt  Hugh's  robust  faith  survived  the  shock,  for  he 
could  still  look  forward  to  the  Reign  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  prophesied 
to  begin  in  the  year  1260 — a  year  which,  by  the  bye,  he  never 
lived  to  see.  But  when  1260  also  passed  without  the  expected 
signs  (though  the  Flagellants'  mania  of  that  year  had  given  him 
a  brief  gleam  of  hope)  then  Salimbene's  faith  in  Joachism  as  an 
-ism  collapsed.  (302)  "After  the  death  of  the  ex-Emperor 
Frederick,  and  the  passing  of  the  year  1260,  then  I  let  that  whole 
doctrine  go  ;  and  I  am  purposed  to  believe  no  more  than  I  can 
see." 

Yet  he  always  kept  up  a  lively  outsider's  interest,  and  gives 
us  a  long  account  of  a  talk  with  the  notorious  Gerard  of  Borgo 
San  Donnino  which  took  place,  as  Prof.  Michael  has  shown,  in 
1256.  The  condemnation  of  the  Introduction  to  the  Eternal 
Gospel  naturally  led  to  the  punishment  of  its  author,  who 
(456)  "had  been  sent  back  [from  Paris]  to  his  own  province 
[of  Sicily]  ;  and,  because  he  would  not  draw  back  from  his  folly, 
Bonaventura  the  Minister-General  sent  for  him  to  join  him  in 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         i  59 

France.  When  therefore  he  passed  through  Modena,  I  dwelt 
there,  and  I  said  to  him,  since  I  knew  him  well :  '  Shall  we  dispute 
of  Joachim  ?  '  Then  said  he,  '  Let  us  not  dispute,  but  confer 
thereof  :  and  let  us  go  to  some  privy  place.'  So  I  took  him 
behind  the  dormitory,  and  we  sat  under  a  vine ;  and  I  said 
to  him  '  My  question  is  of  Antichrist,  when  and  where  he  shall 
be  born  ? '  Then  said  he  '  He  is  already  born  and  full-grown  ; 
and  the  Mystery  of  Iniquity  shall  soon  be  at  work.'     So  I  said 

*  Dost  thou  know  him  ?  '  'I  have  not  seen  his  face,  but  I  know 
him  well  through  the  Scripture.'  '  Where  then  is  that  Scripture  ? ' 
'  In  the  Bible,'  said  he.  '  Tell  me  then,  for  I  know  my  Bible 
well.'  '  Nay,  I  will  by  no  means  tell  it  but  if  we  have  a  Bible 
here.  So  I  brought  him  one,  and  he  began  to  expound  the 
whole  18th  chapter  of  Isaiah,  beginning  '  Woe  to  the  land  the 
winged  cymbal '  and  so  on  to  the  end,  as  referring  to  a  certain 
King  [Alfonso]  of  Castile  in  Spain.*  So  1  said  to  him,  '  Sayest 
thou  then  that  this  King  of  Castile  now  reigning  is  Antichrist  ?  ' 
'  Beyond  all  doubt  he  is  that  accursed  Antichrist  whereof  all 
doctors  and  saints  have  spoken  who  have  treated  of  this  matter.' 
Then  I  answered,  mocking  him,  '  I  hope  in  my  God  that  thou 
shalt  find  thyself  deceived.'  And  as  I  thus  spake,  suddenly 
njany  brethren  and  secular  folk  appeared  in  the  meadow  behind 
the  dormitory,  speaking  sadly  one  with  another, :  so  he  said,  '  Go 
thou  and  hear  what  these  say,  since  they  seem  to  bring  woful 
news.'  I  went  and  returned  and  said  to  him,  '  They  say  that  the 
Lord  Philip  Archbishop  of  Ravenna  [and  Papal  legate]  hath 
been  taken  by  Ezzelino.'  Then  he  answered  '  Thou  seest  that 
the  mysteries  are  even  now  begun.'  Then  he  enquired  of  me 
whether  I  knew  a  certain  man  of  Verona  dwelling  in  Parma, 
who  had  the  spirit  of  prophecy  and  wrote  of  the  future.  '  I 
know  him  well,'  said  I,  '  and  have  seen  his  writings.'  '  I  would 
fain  have  his  writings  :  I  beseech  thee  therefore  to  procure  them 
for  me  if  it  be  possible.'  '  Yea,  for  he  is  glad  to  publish  them 
abroad,  and  rejoices  greatly  whensoever  any  will  have  them  :  for 
he  has  written  many  homilies  which  I  have  seen,  and  has  left 
the  trade  of  a  weaver  whereby  he  was  wont  to  live  in  Parma, 
and  betaken  himself  to  the  convent  of  the  Cistercians  at 
Fontanaviva.  There  he  dwells  in  worldly  dress  at  the  monks' 
expense,  and  writes  all  day  long  in  a  chamber  which  they  have 
assigned  to  him  :  and  thou  mayest  go  to  him,  for  the  convent  is 
no  more  than  two  miles  below  the  high  road.'      '  Nay,'  said  he, 

*  for  my  companions  would  not  turn  aside  from  the  road  ;  but  I 
beseech  thee  to  go  thither  and  procure  me  those  books,  and  thou 
shalt  earn  my  gratitude.'     So  he  went  on  his  way,  and  I  saw  him 


i6o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

no  more  :  but  when  I  had  time  I  went  to  that  convent.  There 
I  found  a  friend  of  mine,  Brother   Alberto    Cremonella,    who 

entered  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor  the  same  day  as  I, 

but  he  quitted  the  Order  during  his  novitiate,  returning  to  the 
world  and  studying  medicine,  and  after  that  he  entered  the 
Cistercian  Order  at  Fontanaviva.  where  he  Avas  held  in  great 
esteem  by  all.  Seeing  me  therefore,  he  thought  (as  he  said)  to 
see  an  angel  of  God  ;  for  he  loved  me  familiarly.  Then  said  I 
that  he  would  do  me  much  favour  if  he  would  lend  me  all  the 
writings  of  that  man  of  Verona.  But  he  answered  and  said, 
*  Know,  Brother  Salimbene,  that  I  am  great  and  powerful  in  this 
house,  and  the  brethren  love  me  of  their  own  lovingkindness 
and  for  my  gift  of  physic  ;  and  if  thou  wilt  I  can  lend  thee  all 
the  Avorks  of  St.  Bernard :  but  this  man  of  whom  thou  speakest 
is  dead,  nor  is  there  one  letter  of  all  his  writings  left  in  the  world, 
for  with  mine  own  hands  have  I  scraped  all  his  books  clean,  and 
I  will  tell  thee  how  and  why.  We  had  a  Brother  in  this  convent 
who  was  excellently  skilled  in  scraping  parchment,  and  he  said 
to  our  Abbot,  "  Father,  the  Blessed  Job  and  Ecclesiastes  warn 
us  of  our  death  :  and  it  is  written  in  Hebrews  '  It  is  appointed 
unto  men  once  to  die :  '  since  therefore  it  is  clearer  to  me  than 
the  light  of  day  that  I  must  some  day  depart  this  life,  for  I  am 
no  better  than  my  fathers ;  therefore,  Father,  I  pray  you 
vouchsafe  to  assign  me  certain  disciples  who  would  learn  to  scrape 
parchment :  for  they  might  be  profitable  to  this  convent  after 
my  death."  Since  therefore  there  was  none  found  but  I  who 
would  learn  this  art,  therefore  after  the  death  of  my  master  and 
of  this  man  of  Verona,  1  scraped  all  his  books  so  clean  that  not 
one  letter  is  left  of  all  his  writings  :  not  only  that  I  might  have 
material  whereon  to  learn  my  art,  but  also  for  that  we  had  been 
sorely  scandalized  by  reason  of  those  prophecies.'^  So  I,  hearing 
this,  said  in  my  heart,  '  Yea,  and  the  book  of  Jeremias  the  Pro- 
phet was  once  burned,  and  he  who  burned  it  escaped  not  due 
punishment ;  and  the  law  of  Moses  was  burned  by  the  Chaldees, 
yet  Esdras  restored  it  again  by  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  So 
there  arose  in  Pai'ma  a  certain  simple  man  whose  intellect  was 
enlightened  to  foretell  the  future,  as  it  is  written  in  Proverbs, 
'  God's  communication  is  with  the  simple.'^  Moreover  after 
many  years,  while  I  dwelt  in  the  convent  of  Imola,  Brother 
Arnolfo  my  Guardian  came  to  my  cell  with  a  book  written  on 
paper  sheets,  saying,  '  There  is  in  this  land  a  certain  notary  who 
is  a  friend  of  the  brethren ;  and  he  hath  lent  me  this  book  to 
read,  which  he  wrote  at  Rome  when  he  was  there  with  the  Lord 
Brancaleone  of  Bologna,  Senator  of  Rome ;   and  the   book  is 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         1 6 1 

exceedingly  dear  to  him,  for  it  is  written  and  composed  by 
Brother  Gerard  of  Borgo  San  Donnino  :  wherefore  do  thou,  who 
hast  studied  in  the  books  of  Abbot  Joachim,  read  now  this 
treatise  and  tell  me  whether  there  is  any  good  therein.'  So  when 
I  had  read  and  understood  it,  1  answered  Brother  Arnolfo  say- 
ing :  '  This  book  hath  not  the  style  of  the  ancient  doctors  ;  but 
rather  frivolous  and  ridicidous  words ;  wherefore  the  book  is  of 
evil  fame  and  hath  been  condemned,  so  that  I  counsel  you  to  cast 
it  into  the  fire  and  bum  it,  and  bid  this  friend  of  yours  have 
patience  with  you  for  God's  sake  and  the  Order's.'  So  it  was 
done,  and  the  book  burned.  Yet  note  that  this  Brother  Gerard 
who  wrote  the  aforesaid  book  seemed  to  have  much  good  in  him. 
For  he  was  friendly,  courteous,  liberal,  religious,  honest,  modest, 
well-mannered,  temperate  in  word  and  food  and  drink  and  raiment, 
helpful  with  all  humility  and  gentleness.  He  was  indeed  such  as 
the  Wise  Man  writeth  in  Proverbs  'a  man  amiable  in  society, 
who  shall  be  more  friendly  than  a  brother ' ;  yet  his  wayward- 
ness in  his  own  opinion  brought  all  these  good  things  to  nought. 
It  was  ordained  by  reason  of  this  Gerard  that  from  henceforward 
no  new  writing  should  be  published  without  the  Order,  save  only 
such  as  had  first  been  approved  by  the  Ministers  and  the 
Definitors  in  a  Chapter  General;  and  that  if  any  did  contrary 
to  this  rule,  he  should  fast  three  days  on  bread  and  water,  and 
his  book  should  be  taken  from  him."  Gerard's  book,  according 
to  our  chronicler,  "contained  many  falsehoods  contrary  to  the 
doctrine  of  Abbot  Joachim,  and  such  as  he  had  never  written  ; 
as  for  instance  that  Christ's  Gospel  and  the  teaching  of  the  New 
Testament  had  led  no  man  to  perfection,  and  would  be  super- 
seded in  the  year  1260." 

In  judging  the  apparent  coolness  with  which  Salimbene  speaks 
of  his  friend's  disgrace  and  death,  we  must  remember  that  he 
himself  had  given  up  the  Millennarian  side  of  Joachism,  and  was 
therefore  compelled,  like  nine-tenths  of  the  other  Franciscans,  to 
look  upon  Gerard  as  the  man  whose  blundering  obstinacy  might 
easily  nave  caused  the  defeat  of  the  Orders  in  their  great  struggle 
with  the  secular  doctors  at  Paris.  Gerard  was  the  intellectual 
black  sheep  of  the  Order ;  Angelo  Clareno,  excluding  him  from 
the  list  of  persecuted  Spirituals,  rejoices  on  the  contrary  to 
record  that  "  he  died  as  a  heretic  and  excommunicate,  and  was 
denied  Christian  burial"  after  18  years  of  imprisonment  in  Fran- 
ciscan dungeons  (Arch,  iv,  ii,  283  ff".)  ;  and,  considering  the 
usual  tone  of  medieval  religious  controversy,  Salimbene's  gener- 
ous tribute  to  (xerard's  character  is  far  more  noticeable  than  his 
failure  to  sympathize  with  sufferings  which  a  recantation  would 


1 62  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

at  any  moment  have  ended.  It  is  difficult  for  us  in  this  age  to 
realize  even  remotely  the  scorn  which  the  most  sympathetic  men 
felt  then  for  all  poor  fools  who  went  to  death  as  champions  of 
unorthodox  ideas.  "  This  is  the  utmost  folly  "  (writes  Salimbene, 
p.  460),  "  when  a  man  is  rebuked  by  men  of  the  greatest  learn- 
ing, and  yet  will  not  retreat  from  his  false  opinions  against  the 
Catholic  faith  ....  no  man,  therefore,  ought  to  be  wanton  and 
pertinacious  in  his  own  opinions."  St.  James  of  the  Mark, 
again,  was  an  able  man  and  a  real  saint :  but  it  is  impossible  to 
read  without  a  shudder  the  reasons  by  which  he  overcame  his 
natural  reluctance  to  burn  heretics.^ 

Frequent  as  are  Salimbene's  further  allusions  to  Joachim, 
they  mostly  imply  no  more  than  that  he  still  looked  upon  him  as 
a  man  of  great  personal  holiness,  and  endowed  with  the  gift  of 
foretelling  certain  particular  events.  He  caught  gladly,  to  the 
very  end,  at  all  Joachistic  prophecies  which  fell  in  with  his  own 
views,  but  tacitly  abandoned  the  rest.  He  is  especially  fond  of 
the  spurious  "  Exposition  of  Jeremiah,"  with  its  prophecies  of 
the  greatness  of  the  friars,  and  especially  with  the  preference 
which  it  shows  for  the  Franciscans  over  the  Dominicans.  The 
Franciscans  (it  says)  shall  be  the  more  popular  and  less  exclusive 
Order :  they  alone  shall  last  till  the  day  of  Judgment :  for 
Salimbene,  like  most  men  of  his  time,  was  haunted  by  that  vague, 
not  always  uncomfortable,  foreboding  of  the  near  end  of  the 
world  which  contributed  so  much  to  the  popularity  of  Joachism. 
He  quotes  how  (579)  "it  was  once  revealed  in  a  vision  to  a 
certain  spiritual  brother  of  the  Friars  Preachers  that  they  would 
have  as  many  Ministers-General  as  there  are  letters  in  the  word 
dirigimur  ("  we  are  governed ")  :  which  hath  nine  letters ;  so 
that,  if  the  vision  be  true,  there  are  but  two  to  come  :  namely, 
u  and  r.  For  the  first  letter  signifieth  Dominic,  the  second, 
Jordan,  the  third,  Raymund,  the  fourth,  lohn,  the  fifth,  Gumhert 
[i.e.,  Humbert  de  Romans],  the  sixth,  lohn  the  Second,  the 
seventh,  Mnnio,  who  is  now  their  General :  whereof  a  like  example 
is  recorded  by  St.  Gregory  in  the  third  book  of  his  dialogues. 
And  note  that  Abbot  Joachim,  to  whom  God  revealed  the  future, 
said  that  the  Order  of  Preachers  should  suflTer  with  the  rest  of 
the  clergy,  but  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor  should  endure  to  the 
end."  The  reference  to  St.  Gregory  is  no  doubt  chap.  38,  where 
the  Pope,  writing  about  600  a.d.,  speaks  of  the  probability — 
or,  rather,  the  certainty — that  the  Last  Judgment  is  close  at 
hand.  He  therefore  proceeds  to  relate  a  series  of  miracles 
designed  to  confute  those  "  many  folk  within  the  bosom  of  Holy 
Church  who  doubt  whether  the  soul  survive  the  death  of  the 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.  163 

flesh."  Salimbene,  as  we  may  see  from  a  sentence  recorded 
above  in  his  description  of  Hugh's  argument,  was  critical 
enough  to  observe  that  these  expectations  of  immediate  judgment 
had  been  common  at  least  from  an  early  period  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Later  on  he  records  another  storj  showing  how  men's 
minds  were  haunted  in  his  day  by  similar  terrors  of  a  coming 
Visitation  of  God.  It  may  remind  some  readers  of  Chaucer's 
"  Miller's  Tale,"  the  plot  of  which  was  probably  taken  from  some 
13ih-ceuiury  fabliau.  (620)  "In  the  year  1286  there  died  in 
the  city  of  Keggio  a  certain  man  of  Brescia,  who  had  aforetime 
taught  boys  to  read  the  Psalter,  and  feigned  himself  to  be  poor, 
and  went  about  begging,  singing  also  at  times  and  playing  the 
panpipe,  that  men  might  the  more  readily  give.  The  devil  put  it 
into  his  heart  that  there  would  be  a  great  famine ;  wherefore 
he  would  roast  crusts  of  bread  and  lay  them  in  chests  ;  and  he 
filled  sacks  with  meal  trodden  down,  which  likewise  he  laid  up  in 
chests,  against  this  famine  which,  as  I  have  said,  he  hoped  for 
at  the  devil's  suggestion.  But  as  it  was  said  to  the  rich  man  in 
the  Gospel  '  Thou  fool,  etc'  so  it  befel  this  wretched  miser.  For 
one  evening  he  fell  into  a  grievous  sickness  beyond  his  wont, 
and,  being  alone  in  his  house,  he  diligently  bolted  the  door  upon 
himself  ;  and  that  night  he  was  foully  choked  by  the  devil,  and 
shamefully  mishandled.  So  on  the  morrow  when  he  appeared  not, 
his  neighbours  came  together,  men  and  women  and  children,  and 
burst  his  door  by  force,  and  found  him  lying  dead  on  the  earth  ; 
and  they  found  the  sacks  of  meal  already  rotten  in  one  chest, 
and  two  other  chests  they  found  full  of  roasted  bread-crusts. 
And  it  was  found  likewise  that  he  had  two  houses  in  the  city, 
ill  different  quarters,  which  became  forfeit  to  the  Commune  of 
Reggio  ;  that  the  common  proverb  might  be  fulfilled,  '  Quod  non 
accipit  Christus  accipit  Fiscus — That  which  is  not  given  to  Christ 
goeth  to  the  public  treasury.'  Moreover  the  children  stripped 
that  wretch  naked,  and  bound  shackles  of  wood  to  his  feet,  and 
dragged  his  naked  corpse  through  all  the  streets  and  places  of 
tlie  city,  for  a  laughing-stock  and  a  mockery  to  all  men.  And, 
strange  to  relate  !  no  man  had  taught  them  to  deal  thus,  nor  did 
any  reprove  them  or  say  that  they  had  done  ill.  But  when  at 
last  they  came  to  St.  Anthony's  spital,  and  were  weary  with 
their  labour,  it  chanced  that  a  certain  peasant  came  that  way 
with  an  ox-waggon.  The  boys  therefore  would  have  bound  this 
outcast  corpse  to  the  tail  of  his  waggon,  but  he  strove  to  hinder 
them  ;  then  the  boys  rose  up  suddenly  against  that  boor,  and 
beat  him  sore,  that  he  was  fain  at  last  to  let  them  do  as  they 
would.     They  went  out  of  the  city  therefore  by  the  bridge  of 


164  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

S.  Stefano,  and  cast  the  corpse  from  the  bridge  upon  the  gravel 
of  the  torrent  called  Crostolo,  and  then  climbing  down  they 
heaped  thereon  a  mighty  pile  of  stones,  crying  '  Thy  famine  and 
thine  avarice  go  down  with  thee  to  hell,  and  thy  churlishness 
withal,  for  ever  and  a  day.'  Whence  it  became  a  proverb  that 
men  would  say  to  miserly  persons  '  Take  heed  lest  ye  provoke 
the  boys'  fury  by  your  churlishness.'  "^° 

It  is  disappointing  from  many  points  of  view  that  our  chronicler 
so  early  lost  sympathy  with  Joachism  as  a  life-force  :  with  that 
Joachism  which  was  soon  to  inspire  Dolcino,  and  after  him 
Kienzi,  and  was  so  often  the  mainspring  of  those  antisacerdotal 
sects  which  flourished  all  through  the  Middle  Ages.  For  it  can 
scarcely  be  out  of  place  here  to  point  out  a  more  than  superficial 
analogy  between  13th  century  and  19th  century  religious  life. 
Mysticism  and  Rationalism,  little  as  they  care  to  recognize  each 
other,  have  strong  secret  affinities :  enthusiasm  may  give  a 
mighty  impulse,  but  can  never  be  sure  what  direction  the  forces 
thus  liberated  will  finally  take.  Every  fresh  presentment  of 
Christianity  is  double-edged  in  its  truth  as  in  its  error.  By 
means  of  his  Theory  of  Development  Newman  reconciled  himself 
to  a  Rome  which,  as  he  saw  only  too  clearly,  was  very  different 
from  the  Rome  of  the  Apostles  :  he  took  the  theory  with  him 
into  his  new  church,  and  there  it  has  borne  unexpected  fruit  in 
the  doctrines  of  Abbe  Loisy  and  his  school.  To  Newman,  it  was 
the  high  road  from  dreary  Private  Judgment  to  blessed  Authority : 
to  the  modern  intellectual  Romanist,  it  is  as  easy  a  backward 
road  from  Authority  to  Private  Judgment.  Much  of  this  same 
tendency  may  be  traced  in  the  history  of  Joachism.  The  Prophet 
of  Calabria  reconciled  himself  to  the  corruptions  of  the  Church 
around  him  as  to  tokens  which,  after  all,  marked  the  imminent 
birth  of  a  new  era ;  and  his  theory  undoubtedly  did  much  to 
create  a  favourable  atmosphere  for  the  coming  friars,  who  were 
themselves  deeply  inspired  by  the  conviction  that  old  things 
were  passed  away,  and  all  things  were  become  new.  When, 
however,  after  a  generation  or  so,  it  became  evident  how  little 
the  Church  in  general  was  shaken  from  its  old  evil  ways,  then  the 
restless  energies  of  the  new  movement  began  in  many  cases  to  work 
backwards,  rebounding  with  the  very  force  of  their  own  impact 
against  so  vast  and  inert  a  mass.  The  more  men  realized  the 
living  forces  liberated  by  the  Franciscan  and  Dominican  reform, 
the  more  they  were  tempted  to  despair  of  a  priesthood  on  which 
even  such  a  shock  could  scarcely  make  an  appreciable  impression.^^ 
It  was  certain  (so  at  least  Joachim,  truly  interpreting  the 
yearnings  of  his  age,  had  taught),  that  the  world  was  on  the  brink 


Abbot  Joachim's  Theory  of  Development.         1 65 

of  a  new  and  brighter  era,  with  nothing  now  intervening  save 
Antichrist  and  the  Abomination  of  Desolation — the  death-throes 
of  a  dying  world  from  which  the  new  world  was  to  be  born.  Men 
whose  every  thought  was  coloured  by  this  conviction — and 
thousands  of  the  best  and  most  pious,  such  as  Adam  Marsh, 
were  more  or  less  avowed  Joachites — would  find  it  difficult 
indeed  to  stifle  antisacerdotal  suggestions,  as  decade  after  decade 
passed  without  real  reform  within  the  Church.  So  long  as 
Frederick  and  his  race  were  alive,  so  that  the  civil  wars  of  Italy 
bore  some  real  appearance  of  religious  wars,  so  long  good  Church- 
men could  always  see  Antichrist  in  the  Empire.  But  when,  in 
the  latter  half  of  the  13th  century,  the  Emperors  became  almost 
vassals  of  the  Popes,  and  yet  the  world  seemed  rather  worse 
than  better — then  at  last  men  began  to  ask  themselves  whether 
the  real  enemy  of  the  Church  was  not  the  Cleric  himself :  whether 
that  Antichrist  and  that  Abomination  of  Desolation,  which  by 
the  Joachitic  hypothesis  were  already  let  loose  upon  the  world, 
could  be  any  other  than  the  Pope  and  his  court,  so  powerful  to 
fight  with  carnal  weapons,  and  so  powerless  to  reforai  the  Church. 
And  so  among  the  Franciscans — who  naturally  counted  a  dis- 
proportionate number  of  enthusiasts  and  quick  intellects,  and 
with  whom  the  liberties  of  the  individual  friar  were  often  all 
the  greater  for  his  Order's  well-earned  reputation  of  subservience 
to  the  Pope — many  among  the  Franciscans,  first  as  zealous 
Spirituals  and  then  as  schismatical  Fraticelli,  became  the  chief 
exponents  of  the  Antipapal  element  in  Joachim's  theories. 
Much  is  permitted  to  a  man  who  is  labelled  with  the  label  of  a 
powerful  party  :  and  antipapalism  often  grew  up  unchecked 
among  the  Papal  militia  of  the  Middle  Ages,  just  as 
Unitarianism  grew  up  under  the  18th  century  Presbyterianism, 
and  as  in  our  own  generation  a  strict  devotion  to  ritual 
will  cover  views  on  inspiration  and  on  miracles  which  to  the 
early  Tractarians  would  have  seemed  unspeakably  abominable. 
We  can  see  this  under  our  own  eyes  :  we  can  trace  much  of  the 
same  tendency  in  the  13th  century  ;  and  it  would  have  been 
welcome  indeed  if  Salimbene  had  spoken  as  freely  on  this  subject 
as  he  did  on  many  others.  But  the  old  chronicler  had  already 
forgotten  many  of  the  interests  of  his  youth ;  and  indeed  this 
matter  of  Joachism  is  the  one  solitary  case  in  which  Salimbene 
seems  ever  to  have  cherished  sectarian  sympathies ;  some  of 
his  most  important  and  entertaining  records,  as  will  be  seen 
later  on,  are  directed  against  enthusiasts  of  his  age  whose 
religious  zeal  outran  their  discretion.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  imagine 
that  he  ever  fully  sympathized — even  under  the  daily  influence 


1 66  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

of  Brothers  Hugh  and  John  of  Parma — with  that  passionate 
longing  for  a  new  world  which  was  the  soul  of  real  Joachism. 
The  world  he  saw  and  knew,  with  all  its  shortcomings,  was  a 

freat  deal  too  full  of  interest  to  be  wished  away.  He  was  an 
Ipicurean  in  the  higher  sense,  recognizing  that  there  are  few 
pleasures  in  life  so  keen  and  abiding  as  that  of  learning ;  and 
that,  so  long  as  one  is  young  and  strong,  there  is  no  better  Avay 
of  learning  than  to  travel  among  many  men  and  many  cities. 


Chapter  XIV. 
Further  Wanderings* 

SALIMBENE,  however  happj  in  Brother  Hugh's  company, 
had  no  real  business  at  Hyeres,  and  could  not  stay  there 
indefinitely.  Accordingly  (294)  "  I  borrowed  from  him  what 
he  had  of  the  Expositions  of  Abbot  Joachim  on  the  four 
Evangelists,  and  went  to  dwell  in  the  convent  of  Aix,  where  I 
copied  the  book  with  the  help  of  my  comrade  for  Brother  John 
of  Parma,  who  was  likewise  a  very  mighty  Joachite."  Aix 
attracted  him  for  those  romantic  but  mythical  traditions  which 
may  still  be  read  in  the  Golden  Legend,  a  book  which  was  com- 
piled by  a  contemporary  of  Salimbene's  and  probably  an  acquain- 
tance :  for  he  seems  to  have  been  in  the  Dominican  convent  of 
Genoa  in  this  year  1248  when  Salimbene  spent  some  months  at 
the  Franciscan  convent  there.  Martha  and  Lazarus  and  the 
Magdalene,  with  St.  Maximin  who  had  been  one  of  the  72 
disciples,  and  Martilla  who  had  cried  in  the  crowd  "  Blessed  is 
the  womb  that  bare  thee,"  and  Cedonius,  the  blind  man  of  John 
ix.  2,  had  been  put  by  the  Jews  on  board  a  boat  without  sails 
or  rudder ;  and  "  by  God's  will  they  came  to  Marseilles,  where 
in  process  of  time  Lazarus  was  Bishop ;  and  he  wrote  his  book 
Oji  the  Pains  of  Hell,  as  he  had  seen  them  with  his  own  eyes.  But 
when  I  enquired  after  this  book  at  Marseilles,  I  heard  that  it  had 
been  burnt  by  the  negligence  and  carelessness  of  the  guardian 
of  the  church."^  (295)  "  When  therefore  I  had  written  this 
book,  the  month  of  September  was  come,  and  Brother  Raymond, 
Minister  of  Provence,  wrote  me  word  to  come  and  meet  the 
Minister-General.  He  wrote  also  to  Brother  Hugh  to  meet  him, 
and  we  found  him  at  Tarascon,  where  now  is  the  body  of  St. 
Martha :  so  we  went  to  visit  her  body — we  twelve  Brethren 
besides  the  General ;  and  the  Canons  showed  us  her  arm  to 
kiss.  So  when  we  had  said  our  Compline  in  the  convent,  and 
beds  had  been  assigned  to  the  guests  to  sleep  in  the  same  building 
with  the  General,  he  went  out  into  the  cloister  to  pray.  But  the 
strange  Brethren  feared  to  enter  their  beds  until  the  General 


1 68  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

came  to  his ;  and  I,  seeing  their  distress, — for  thej  murmured, 
because  they  would  fain  have  slept,  and  could  not,  for  the  bed- 
places  were  lighted  with  bright  tapers  of  wax — therefore  I  went 
to  the  General,  who  was  my  very  close  and  intimate  friend,  being 
of  my  country,  and  akin  to  my  kindred.  So  I  found  him  praying, 
and  said,  '  Father,  the  strange  ^Brethren,  wearied  with  their 
journey  and  their  labour,  would  fain  sleep  ;  but  they  fear  to  enter 
their  beds,  until  you  be  first  come  to  yours.'  Then  said  he,  '  Go, 
tell  them  from  me  to  sleep  with  God's  blessing ' :  and  so  it  was. 
But  it  seemed  good  to  me  to  await  the  General,  that  I  might 
show  him  his  bed.  When  therefore  he  was  come  from  prayer, 
I  showed  him  the  bed  prepared  for  him  :  but  he  said,  '  Son,  the 
Pope's  self  might  sleep  in  this  bed:*  never  shall  John  of  Parma 
sleep  therein.'  And  he  threw  himself  upon  the  empty  bed  which 
1  hoped  to  have.  And  I  said  to  him,  '  Father,  God  forgive  you, 
for  you  have  deprived  me  of  my  allotted  bed,  wherein  I  thought 
to  sleep.'  And  he  said,  '  Son,  sleep  thou  in  that  Papal  bed ' ; 
and  when  after  his  example  I  would  have  refused,  he  said  to  me, 
*  I  am  firmly  resolved  that  thou  shalt  lie  there,  and  that  is  my 
command '  :  wherefore  I  must  needs  do  as  he  commanded." 
Here  at  Tarascon  Salimbene  saw  and  admired  two  English  friars, 
of  whom  the  principal.  Brother  Stephen,  "  had  entered  the  Order 
in  his  boyhood ;  a  comely,  spiritual,  and  learned  man,  of  most 
excellent  counsel,  and  ready  to  preach  daily  to  the  clergy ;  and 
he  had  most  excellent  writings  of  Brother  Adam  Marsh,  whose 
lectures  on  Genesis  I  heard  from  him."  Stephen,  of  whom 
Salimbene  has  an  interesting  tale  to  tell  presently,  is  possibly 
the  hero  of  one  of  the  most  charming  anecdotes  in  Eccleston. 
(R.S.  p.  26.'!  "  Brother  Peter  the  Spaniard,  who  was  afterwards 
Guardian  of  Northampton  and  wore  a  shirt  of  mail  to  tame  the 
temptations  of  the  flesh  .  .  .  had  in  his  convent  a  novice  who 
was  tempted  to  leave  the  Order :  but  he  persuaded  him  with 
much  ado  to  go  with  him  to  the  Minister.  On  the  road,  Brother 
Peter  began  to  preach  to  him  of  the  virtue  of  Holy  Obedience ; 
and  lo  !  a  wild  bird  went  before  them  as  they  walked  on  the  way. 
So  the  novice,  whose  name  was  Stephen,  said  to  Brother  Peter, 
'  Father,  if  it  be  as  thou  sayest,  bid  me  in  virtue  of  obedience  to 
catch  this  wild  bird,  and  bid  it  wait  for  me.'  The  Brother  did 
so  :  and  the  bird  stood  suddenly  still,  and  the  novice  came  up 
and  took  it  and  handled  it  as  he  would.  Straightway  his  tempt- 
ation was  wholly  assuaged,  and  God   gave  unto  him   another 

*  AUa  paperina  was  a  common  Italian  phrase  to  denote  great  comfort :  cf. 
Sacchetti  Nov.  131  and  156. 


Further  Wanderings.  169 

heart,  and  he  returned  forthwith  to  Northampton  and  made  his 
profession  of  perseverance ;  and  afterwards  he  became  a  most 
excellent  preacher,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes." 

Salimbene  accompanied  John  of  Parma  down  the  Rhone 
again  to  Aries.  (297)  "And  one  day  when  the  General  was 
alone,  I  went  to  his  chamber,  and  behold,  after  me  came  my 
comi*ade  who  was  likewise  of  Parma,  Brother  Giovannino  dalle 
Olle  by  name,  and  he  said,  '  Father,  vouchsafe  that  I  and  Brother 
Salimbene  may  have  the  aureole.'*  Then  the  General  showed  a 
jocund  face,  saying  to  my  comrade,  '  How  then  can  I  give  you 
the  aureole  ?  '  To  whom  Brother  Giovannino  answered,  *  By 
giving  us  the  office  of  Preachers.'  Then  said  Brother  John, 
*  In  very  truth,  if  ye  were  both  my  blood-brethren,  ye  should  not 
have  that  office  otherwise  than  by  the  sword  of  examination.' 
Then  1  answered  and  said  to  my  comrade  in  the  Minister's 
hearing,  '  Hence,  hence,  with  thine  aureole  I  I  received  the  office 
of  Preacher  last  year  from  Pope  Innocent  IV  at  Lyons.  Since 
therefore  it  hath  once  been  granted  to  me  by  him  who  had  all 
power,  shall  I  receive  it  yiow  from  Brother  Giovannino  of  San 
Lazzaro  ? '  (For  Brother  John  of  Parma  was  called  Master 
Giovannino  when  he  taught  logic  in  the  world ;  and  di  San 
Lazzaro  after  the  spital  of  San  Lazzaro  where  his  uncle  brought 
him  up.)  Then  answered  my  comrade,  '  I  would  rather  have  the 
office  from  the  Minister-General  than  from  any  Pope,  and  if  we 
must  needs  pass  by  the  sword  of  examination,  then  let  Brother 
Hugh  examine  us.'  '  Nay,'  said  Brother  John,  '  I  will  not  that 
Brother  Hugh  examine  you,  for  he  is  your  friend  and  will  spare 
you  ;  but  call  me  the  Lector  and  Repetitor  of  this  convent.' 
They  came  at  his  call,  and  he  said,  *  Lead  these  Brethren  apart, 
and  examine  them  on  matters  of  preaching  alone,  and  bring  me 
word  whether  they  are  worthy  to  have  that  office.'  It  was  done 
as  he  commanded  :  to  me  he  gave  the  office,  but  not  to  ;my  com- 
rade, who  was  found  wanting  in  knowledge.  Yet  the  General 
said  to  him,  '  Delay  is  no  robbery.  Study  wisdom,  my  son,  and 
make  my  heart  joyful,  that  thou  mayest  give  an  answer  to  him 
that  reproacheth.'  Then  came  two  young  Brethren  of  Tuscany 
also,  deacons  and  good  scholars,  who  had  studied  many  years 
with  me  in  the  convent  of  Pisa  :  and  on  the  morrow,  when  they 
would  have  departed,  they  sent  to  the  General  through  Brother 

*  It  was  commonly  believed  that  a  halo  of  special  glory  in  heaven  was  reserved 
for  virgins,  or  doctors,  or  martyrs,  and  that  a  preacher  might  rank  for  this 
purpose  with  a  doctor.  Salimbene,  who  certainly  did  not  aspire  to  martyrdom,  is 
glad  to  think  that,  through  the  Pope's  grace,  he  is  yet  sure  of  his  future  crown  of 
glory.a 


I  70  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Mark  his  companion,  beseeching  the  office  of  Preacher  and  a 
Ucence  for  the  priesthood.  The  General  was  saying  his  Com- 
pline, and  I  with  him  :  then  came  Brother  Mark  and  interrupted 
our  CompHne  to  give  his  message  :  to  whom  the  General  answer- 
ed in  fervour  of  spirit  (as  was  his  wont  when  he  believed  himself 
to  be  stirred  with  zeal  for  God)  saying  '  These  brethren  do  ill, 
in  that  they  beg  shamelessly  for  such  honours  :  for  the  Apostle 
saith  :  "  No  man  doth  take  the  honour  to  himself."  Lo  these 
men  have  come  away  from  their  own  Minister,  who  knew  them 
and  might  have  given  them  that  which  they  seek  from  me  : 
let  them  therefore  go  now  to  Toulouse  whither  they  are  sent  to 
study,  and  continue  to  learn  there  ;  for  we  need  not  their 
preaching  :  yet  at  a  fitting  season  they  may  obtain  this.'  Then, 
seeing  that  he  was  wroth.  Brother  Mark  withdrew  from  him 
saying  :  *  Father,  ye  should  rather  believe  that  they  ask  not  of 
their  own  accord  :  for  it  might  well  have  been  that  Brother 
Salimbene  had  besought  me  to  plead  with  you  on  their  behalf.' 
Then  answered  the  General :  '  Brother  Salimbene  hath  been 
all  the  while  saying  his  Compline  here  with  me  :  therefore  know 
I  that  it  was  not  he  who  spake  to  thee  of  this  matter.'  So 
Brother  Mark  withdrew  saying,  'Father,  be  it  as  thou  wilt.' 
Knowing  therefore  that  Brother  Mark  had  not  taken  the 
General's  answer  in  good  part,  I  went  to  comfort  him  when 
our  Compline  was  done.  And  he  said  unto  me  :  '  Brother  Salim- 
bene, Brother  John  hath  done  evil  in  that  he  hath  turned  away 
my  face,  and  would  not  admit  my  prayers,  even  though  the  favour 
were  but  small ;  albeit  that  I  pain  myself  for  the  Order,  in  follow- 
ing him  and  in  writing  his  letters,  though  I  be  now  advanced 
in  years.'  "  Brother  Mark's  distress  gains  additional  pathos 
from  the  character  which  Salimbene  gives  him  elsewhere  (see 
Chap,  ix)  ;  but  the  first  fault  was  in  his  own  indiscretion.  John 
of  Parma  was  not  among  the  many  who,  in  St.  Bonaventura's 
words,  "  say  the  Hours  sleepily  and  indevoutly  and  imperfectly, 
with  a  wandering  heart,  and  a  tongue  that  sometimes  omits 
whole  verses  and  syllables  " :  on  the  contrary,  Angelo  Clareno 
assures  us  that  he  took  his  Breviary  very  seriously,  always 
standing  and  doffing  his  hood  to  recite,  as  St.  Francis 
had  done :  so  that  his  old  friend  ought  to  have  known  better 
than  to  interrupt  him  at  Compline.^  No  doubt  Brother 
Mark's  zeal  had  for  a  moment  overrun  his  discretion  :  and 
his  disappointment  was  now  all  the  more  bitter.  "If  they 
were  priests,"  he  complained,  "  then  they  might  celebrate 
Masses  for  both  quick  and  dead,  and  be  more  profitable 
to  the  Brethren  to  whom  they  go  ;  and  God  knoweth  that  I  am 


Further  Wanderings.  171 

ashamed  now  to  return  to  them  with  my  prayer  ungranted." 
Salimbene,  however  sympathetic,  could  only  remind  him  that 
"  patience  hath  a  perfect  work." 

"  That  evening  "  (he  continues)  "  the  General  sent  for  me  and 
my  comrade,  and  said,  '  My  sons,  I  hope  soon  to  leave  you,  for 
I  purpose  to  go  to  Spain ;  wherefore  choose  for  yourselves  any 
convent  soever,  except  Paris,  in  the  whole  Order,  and  take  the 
space  of  this  night  to  ponder  and  make  your  choice,  and  tell  me 
to-morrow.'  On  the  morrow  he  said,  '  What  have  ye  chosen  ? ' 
So  I  answered,  '  In  this  matter  we  have  done  nothing,  lest  it 
should  become  an  occasion  of  mourning  to  us ;  but  we  leave  it 
in  your  choice  to  send  us  whithersoever  it  may  seem  good,  and  we 
will  obey.'  Whereat  he  was  edified,  and  said,  '  Go  therefore 
to  the  convent  of  Genoa,  where  ye  shall  dwell  with  Brother 
Stephen  the  Englishman.  Moreover,  1  will  write  to  the  Minister 
and  Brethren  there,  commending  you  to  their  favour  even  as  my- 
self;  and  that  thou.  Brother  Salimbene,  mayest  be  promoted  to  the 
priesthood,  and  thy  comrade  to  the  diaconate.  And  when  I  come 
thither,  if  I  find  you  satisfied,  I  shall  rejoice  ;  and  if  not,  I  will 
console  you  again.'  And  so  it  was.  Moreover,  that  same  day 
the  General  said  to  Brother  Hugh  his  friend,  '  What  say  ye,  shall 
we  go  to  Spain,  and  fulfil  the  Apostle's  desire  ?  '  And  Brother 
Hugh  answered  him,  *  Go  y<?.  Father ;  for  my  part  I  would  fain 
die  in  the  land  of  my  fathers.'  So  we  brought  him  forthwith  to 
his  ship,  which  lay  ready  on  the  Rhone  :  and  he  went  that  day  to 
St.-Gilles,  but  we  went  by  sea  to  Marseilles,  whence  we  sailed 
to  Hyeres  to  Brother  Hugh's  convent.  There  I  dwelt  with  my 
comrade  from  the  Feast  of  St.  Francis  until  All  Saints  ;  rejoicing 
to  be  with  Brother  Hugh,  with  whom  I  conversed  all  day  long  of 
the  doctrine  of  Abbot  Joachim  :  for  he  had  all  his  books.  But 
I  lamented  that  my  comrade  grew  grievously  sick,  almost  to 
death  ;  and  he  would  not  take  care  of  himself,  and  the  weather 
grew  daily  worse  for  sailing  as  the  winter  drew  on.  And  that 
country  was  most  unwholesome  that  year,  by  reason  of  the  sea- 
wind  ;  and  by  night  I  could  scarce  breathe,  even  as  I  lay  in 
the  open  air.  And  I  heard  wolves  crying  and  howling  in  the 
night  in  great  multitudes,  and  this  not  once  or  twice  only.  So 
I  said  to  my  comrade,  who  was  a  most  wayward  youth, '  Thou 
wilt  not  guard  thyself  from  things  contrary  to  thy  health,  and  art 
ever  relapsing  into  sickness.  But  I  know  that  this  country  is 
most  unwholesome,  and  I  would  fain  not  die  yet,  for  I  would 
fain  live  to  see  the  things  foretold  by  Brother  Hugh.  Wherefore 
know  thou,  that  if  fitting  fellowship  of  our  Brethren  shall  come 
hither,  I  will  go  with  them.'     And  he  said,  *  What  thou  sayest 


172  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

pleases  me.  I  also  will  go  with  thee.'  For  he  hoped  that  none 
of  the  Brethren  would  come  at  that  time.  And  behold,  by  the 
will  of  the  Lord  forthwith  there  came  one  Brother  Ponce,  a  holy 
man,  who  had  been  with  us  in  the  Convent  of  Aix  ;  and  he  was 
going  to  Nice,  of  which  Convent  he  had  been  made  Guai'dian. 
And  he  rejoiced  to  see  us ;  and  I  said  to  him,  '  We  will  go  with 
jou,  for  we  must  needs  come  to  Genoa  to  dwell  there.'  And  he 
answered  and  said,  '  It  is  most  pleasing  to  me.  Go  therefore 
and  procure  us  a  ship.'  So  on  the  morrow  after  dinner  we  went 
to  the  ship,  which  was  a  mile  from  our  Convent,  but  my  comrade 
would  not  come,  imtil,  seeing  that  I  was  straitly  purposed  to 
depart,  he  took  leave  of  the  Guardian,  and  came  after  us.  And 
when  1  gave  him  my  hand  to  raise  him  up  into  the  ship,  he 
abhorred  it,  and  said,  '  God  forbid  that  thou  shouldst  touch  me, 
for  thou  hast  not  kept  faith  and  good  comradeship  with  me.' 
To  whom  I  said,  '  W  retched  man  !  know  now  God's  goodness 
towards  thee.  For  the  Lord  hath  revealed  to  me  that  if  thou 
hadst  stayed  here,  thou  wouldst  doubtless  have  died.'  Yet 
he  believed  me  not,  until  'vexation  did  make  him  understand 
what  he  heard ' ;  for  all  that  winter  he  could  not  shake  off  the 
sickness  which  he  had  taken  in  Provence.  And  when  on  the 
Feast  of  St.  Matthew  following  I  again  visited  Hyeres,  I  found 
six  Brethren  of  that  convent  dead  and  buried,  the  first  of  whom 
was  the  Guardian,  who  had  accompanied  my  comrade  to  the 
ship.  So  when  1  was  come  back  to  Genoa  and  had  told  my 
comrade  of  these  deaths,  he  thanked  me  that  I  bad  snatched 
him  from  the  jaws  of  death."  It  would  have  been  a  thousand 
pities  if  he  had  died  in  his  wayward  youth  :  for  he  went  after- 
wards as  a  missionary  to  the  Christian  captives  in  Egypt  after 
the  disastrous  failure  of  St.  Louis'  second  crusade,  "for  the 
merit  of  salutary  obedience  and  for  the  remission  of  all  his  sins. 
For  he  himself  did  much  good  to  those  Christians,  and  was  the 
cause  of  much  more ;  and  he  saw  an  Unicorn  and  the  Balsam 
Vine,*  and  brought  home  Manna  in  a  vessel  of  glass,  and  water 
from  St.  Mary's  Well  (with  which  alone  the  Balsam  Vine  can  be 
watered  so  as  to  bear  fruit)  :  and  Balsam  wood  he  brought  home 
with  him,  and  many  such  things  which  we  had  never  seen,  which 
he  was  wont  to  show  to  the  Brethren  :  and  he  would  tell  also 
how  the  Saracens  keep  Christians  in  bonds  and  make  them  to 

*  For  this  Balsam  see  Sir  John  Mandeville  (chap,  v),  who  gives  an  equally 
miracalous,  though  quite  different  account  of  its  methods  of  fructificatioQ.  It 
grows  only  near  Cairo,  and  in  "India  the  Greater,  in  that  desert  where  the 
trees  of  the  sun  and  moon  spake  to  Alexander.  But  I  have  not  seen  it,  for  I 
have  not  been  so  far  upward,  because  there  are  too  many  perilous  passages." 


Further  Wanderings.  1 73 

dig  the  trenches  of  their  fortifications  and  to  carry  off  the  earth 
in  baskets,  and  how  each  Christian  receives  but  three  small 
loaves  a  day.  So  he  was  present  at  the  General  Chapter  in 
Strasburg  [a.d.  1282] ;  and  on  his  way  thence  he  ended  his  days 
at  the  first  convent  of  the  brethren  this  side  of  Strasburg  [?.<?. 
Colmar],  and  shone  with  the  glory  of  miracles.  So  lived  and  died 
Brother  Giovannino  dalle  Olle,  who  was  my  comrade  in  France, 
in  Burgundy,  in  Provence,  and  in  the  convent  at  Genoa  :  a  good 
writer  and  singer  and  preacher ;  an  honest  and  good  and  profitable 
man  :  may  his  soul  rest  in  peace  !  In  the  convent  wherein  he 
died  was  a  brother  incurably  diseased,  for  all  that  the  doctors 
could  do,  of  a  long-standing  sickness ;  yet  when  he  set  himself 
wholly  to  pray  God  that  He  would  make  him  whole  for  love  of 
Brother  Giovannino,  then  was  he  forthwith  freed  from  his  sickness, 
as  I  heard  from  Brother  Paganino  of  Ferrara,  who  was  there 
present."  In  his  company,  then,  Salimbene  sailed  to  Nice, 
where  they  picked  up  a  famous  Spiritual,  Brother  Simon  of 
Montesarchio.  The  three  sailed  on  from  Nice  to  Genoa  ;  and 
here  our  chronicler  found  himself  again  among  good  friends. 
(315)  "  The  Brethren  rejoiced  to  see  us,  and  were  much  cheered  ; 
more  especially  Brother  Stephen  the  Englishman,  whom  afterwards 
the  Minister-General  sent  to  Rome  as  he  had  promised ;  and 
he  became  Lector  in  the  convent  of  Rome,  where  he  died  with  his 
comrade.  Brother  Jocelin,  after  they  had  completed  their  desire 
of  seeing  Rome  and  her  sanctuaries.  Moreover,  in  the  convent  of 
Genoa  when  I  arrived  there  was  Brother  Taddeo,  who  had  been 
a  Canon  of  St.  Peter's  Church  in  Rome.  He  was  old  and  stricken 
in  years,  and  was  reputed  a  Saint  by  the  Brethren.  So  likewise 
was  Brother  Marco  of  Milan,  Avho  had  already  been  Minister  :  so 
likewise  was  Brother  Anselmo  Rabuino  of  Asti,  who  had  been 
Minister  of  the  Provinces  of  Terra  di  Lavoro,  and  Treviso,  and  had 
dwelt  long  at  Naples  with  Brother  John  of  Parma.  There  were 
also  at  Genoa  Brother  Bertolino  the  Custode,  who  was  afterwards 
Minister,  and  Brother  Pentecost,  a  holy  man,  and  Brother  Matthew 
of  Cremona,  a  discreet  and  holy  man :  and  all  these  bore  themselves 
kindly  and  courtly  and  charitably  towards  us.  For  the  Guardian 
gave  me  two  new  frocks,  an  outer  and  an  inner,  and  the  same  to 
my  comrade.  And  the  Minister,  Brother  Nantelmo,  promised  to 
give  me  whatsoever  consolation  and  grace  1  might  require.  He 
gave  his  own  companion,  Brother  William  of  Piedmont,  a  worthy 
and  learned  and  good  man,  to  teach  me  to  sing  Mass.  These 
have  passed  all  from  this  world  to  the  Father,  and  their  names  are 
in  the  Book  of  Life,  for  they  ended  their  life  well  and  laudably'." 
Here  in  Genoa,  therefore,  Salimbene  settled  down  for  a  while, 


1 74  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

happy  in  his  easilj-wou  Preacher's  aureole ;  but  liis  companion 
passed  straight  on  to  fight  for  a  Martyr's  crown.  (318)  "In 
this  same  year  1248,  Pope  Innocent  IV  sent  Brother  Simon  of 
Montesarchio  into  Apulia,  to  withdraw  that  kingdom  and  Sicily 
from  the  dominion  of  the  deposed  Emperor.  And  he  drew 
many  to  the  Church  party  ;  but  at  last  the  Emperor  took  him 
and  had  him  tortured  with  eighteen  divers  torments,  all  of  which 
he  bore  patiently,  nor  could  the  tormentors  wring  aught  from 
him  but  praise  of  God  ;  Who  wrought  many  miracles  through 
him — may  he  be  my  Intercessor,  Amen  !  He  was  my  friend  at 
the  Court  of  Lyons  when  we  travelled  together  to  the  Pope,  and 
when  we  travelled  from  Nice  to  Genoa  we  told  each  other  many 
tales.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  height,  and  dark,  like  St. 
Boniface*  ;  always  jocund  and  spiritual ;  of  good  life  and  proper 
learning.  There  was  also  another  Brother  Simon,  called  '  of  the 
Countess,'  whom  God  glorified  by  miracles,  and  who  was  my 
familiar  friend  at  the  convent  of  Marseilles  this  same  year." 
This  Simon,  also  called  Simon  of  Colazzone,  was  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Spirituals  in  their  resistance  to  Brother  Elias  ;  but 
the  wily  Minister,  dreading  his  noble  and  royal  connexions, 
spared  him  when  he  scourged  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  and 
imprisoned  Caesarius  of  Spires.  A  long  list  of  his  miracles,  from 
the  Papal  Bull  of  Beatification,  may  be  found  in  Mark  of  Lisbon 
(L.  i.  cap.  X.)  The  allusion  to  him  here  is  important  as  a  further 
proof  that,  if  Salimbene  took  for  granted  the  "  relaxed  "  view 
of  the  Rule,  it  was  not  for  want  of  zealous  Spiritual  friends. 
John  of  Parma,  Hugues  de  Digne,  Bernard  of  Quintavalle,  Giles 
of  Perugia,  Illuminato,  Simon  of  Colazzone,  all  six  Beati  and 
miracle-workers,  show  that  Salimbene  kept  the  best  of  company 
within  his  Order.  This  lends  all  the  more  point  to  the  story  of 
holy  violence  which  he  tells ;  a  tale  admirably  illustrating  those 
encroachments  by  which  the  friars,  to  the  detriment  of  their 
own  healthy  influence  in  other  directions,  needlessly  exasperated 
the  parish  clergy.  (316)  "There  was  in  the  city  of  Genoa  a 
certain  Corsican  Bishop,  who  had  been  a  Black  Monk  of  St. 
Benedict,  and  whom  King  Enzio  or  Frederick,  in  their  hatred 
of  the  Church,  had  expelled  from  Corsica.  He  now  dwelt  at 
Genoa  and  copied  books  with  his  own  hand  for  a  livelihood ;  and 
daily  he  came  to  the  Mass  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and  afterwards 
he  heard  Brother  Stephen  the  Englishman  teach  in  our  Schools. 
This  Bishop  consecrated  me  priest  in  the  church  of  Sant'  Onorato, 

*  Who  is  described  in  the  Oolden  Legend  as  • '  a  square-built  and  stout  man, 
with  thick  hair,"  and  as  "  bearing  pain  readily." 


Further  Wanderings.  175 

which  is  now  in  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Genoa.  But 
in  those  days  it  was  not  so — naj,  rather,  a  certain  priest  had  and 
held  it  just  over  our  convent,  though  he  had  no  folk  for  his 
parishioners.  And  when  the  Brethren  came  back  from  Matins 
to  rest  in  their  cells,  this  good  man  troubled  their  rest  with  his 
church-bells ;  and  thus  he  did  every  night.  Wherefore  the 
Brethren  grew  weary,  and  so  wrought  with  Pope  Alexander  IV 
that  they  took  that  church  from  him.  This  Pope  had  canonized 
St.  Clare,  and  at  the  very  hour  whereat  he  celebrated  the  first 
Mass  of  St.  Clare,  when  he  had  said  his  prayer,  the  priest  drew 
near  and  said,  '  I  beseech  you,  Father,  for  love  of  the  Blessed 
Clare,  not  to  take  from  me  the  church  of  Sant'  Onorato.'  But 
the  Pope  took  up  his  parable  and  began  to  say,  in  the  vulgar 
tongue,  '  For  the  love  of  theBlessed  Clare  1  will  that  the  Brethren 
Minor  have  it.'  And  thus  he  said  many  times  over,  so  that  he 
seemed  almost  mad  (infatuatus)  to  repeat  it  so  often,  and  that 
the  priest  groaned  to  hear  it  and  departed  from  him." 


Chapter  XV. 

A  Bishop's  Q>nscience. 

SALIMBENE  had  come  to  Genoa  m  November  1248  :  in  Feb. 
1249  he  was  already  on  the  move  again  :  for  (320)  "  It 
pleased  Brother  Nantelmo  my  Minister  to  send  me  to  the 
Minister-General  for  the  business  of  the  Province.  So  I  put  to 
sea,  and  came  in  four  days  to  Brother  Hugh's  convent  at  Hyeres. 
And  he  rejoiced  to  see  me ;  and,  being  Guardian  for  the  time 
being,  he  ate  familiarly  with  me  and  my  comrade  and  none  else 
but  the  Brethren  who  served  us.  He  gave  us  a  magnificent 
dinner  of  sea-fish  and  other  meats,  for  we  were  at  the  beginning 
of  Lent ;  and  not  only  my  comrade  from  Genoa,  but  even  the 
Brethren  of  that  convent  marvelled  at  his  great  familiarity  and 
complaisance  with  me  :  for  in  those  days  Brother  Hugh  was  not 
wont  to  eat  with  any,  perchance  because  Lent  was  at  hand.  And 
we  spake  much  of  God  during  that  dinner,  and  of  the  doctrine  of 
Abbot  Joachim,  and  of  what  should  come  to  pass  in  the  world. 
When  I  left  Genoa  there  was  an  almond-tree  in  blossom  hard  by 
our  sacristy,  and  in  Provence  1  found  the  fruit  of  this  tree  already 
big  with  green  husk.  1  found  also  broad  beans  fresh  grown  in  their 
pods.  After  dinner  I  went  on  my  way  to  the  Minister-General, 
whom  I  presently  found  at  Avignon  on  his  return  from  Spain  ;  for 
he  had  been  recalled  by  the  Pope  to  go  among  the  Greeks,  of  whom 
there  was  hope  that  by  the  mediation  of  Vatatzes  they  might  be 
reconciled  to  the  Koman  Church.  Thence  I  went  to  Lyons  with 
the  Minister-General,  and  at  Vienne  we  found  the  messenger  of 
Vatatzes,  who  was  of  our  Order,  and  was  called  Brother  Salimbene, 
even  as  I.  He  was  Greek  of  one  parent,  and  Latin  of  another, 
and  spoke  Latin  excellently,  though  he  had  no  clerical  tonsure. 
And  when  the  General  had  come  to  the  Pope,  the  Holy  Father 
received  him  and  vouchsafed  to  kiss  him  on  the  mouth,  and  said 
to  him,  '  God  forgive  thee,  son,  for  thou  hast  delayed  long.  Why 
didst  thou  not  come  on  horseback,  to  be  with  me  the  sooner  ? ' 
To  whom  Brother  John  answered,  'Father,  1  came  swiftly  enough 
when  1  had  seen  thy  letters ;  but  the  Brethren  by  whom  I  have 


A  Bishop's  Conscience.  i  77 

passed  have  kept  me  on  the  way.'  To  whom  the  Pope  said, 
'  We  have  prosperous  tidings,  namely  that  the  Greeks  are  willing 
to  be  reconciled  with  the  Church  of  Rome  ;  wherefore  I  will  that 
thou  go  to  them  with  good  fellowship  of  Brethren  of  thy  Order, 
and  it  may  be  that  by  thy  mediation  God  will  deign  to  work  some 
good.  Keceive  therefore  from  me  every  favour  which  thou 
mayest  desire.'  So  the  Minister-General  departed  from  Lyons 
when  Easter  week  was  passed. 

"  I  found  at  Lyons  Brother  Ruffino,  Minister  of  Bologna,*  who 
said  to  me, '  I  sent  thee  into  France  to  study  for  my  Province,  and 
thou  hast  gone  to  dwell  in  the  convent  of  Genoa.  Know  there- 
fore that  I  take  this  very  ill,  since  I  bring  students  together  for 
the  honour  of  my  Province.'  And  I  said,  '  Forgive  me,  Father, 
for  I  knew  not  that  you  would  take  it  ill.'  Then  he  answered, 
'  I  forgive  under  this  condition,  that  thou  write  forthwith  an 
Obedience  whereby  thou  mayest  return  to  my  Province  whence 
thou  hast  come,  with  thy  comrade  who  is  now  in  Genoa.'  So  I 
did,  and  the  Minister-General  knew  not  of  this  Obedience  when 
he  was  at  Lyons.  So  I  went  on  my  way  to  Vienne,  and  thence 
through  Grenoble  and  the  valley  of  the  Count  of  Savoy,  where 
1  heard  of  the  fall  and  ruin  of  the  mountain.  For  the  year 
before,  in  the  valley  of  Maurienne — between  Grenoble  and 
Chambery — there  is  a  plain  called  the  valley  of  Savoy  proper, 
a  league  distant  from  Chambery,  over  which  rose  a  great  and 
lofty  mountain,  which  fell  one  night  and  filled  the  whole  valley  ; 
the  ruin  whereof  is  a  whole  league  and  a  half  in  breadth  :  under 
which  ruin  seven  parishes  were  overwhelmed,  and  4000  men 
were  slain.  I  heard  tell  of  this  ruin  at  Genoa  ;  and  in  this  year 
following  I  passed  through  that  country,  that  is,  through 
Grenoble,  and  understood  it  with  more  certainty ;  and  many 
years  after,  at  the  convent  of  Ravenna,  I  enquired  of  the  fall  of 
this  mountain  from  Brother  William,  Minister  of  Burgundy,  who 
was  passing  through  that  city  on  his  way  to  a  Chapter  General : 
and  I  have  written  it  faithfully  and  truly  as  I  heard  it  from  his 
mouth.^  On  this  journey  I  entered  a  certain  church  dedicated 
to  St.  Gerard,  which  was  all  full  of  children's  shirts. f  Thence 
I  passed  on  to  Embrun,  where  was  an  Archbishop  born  of 
Piacenza,  who  daily  gave  dinner  to  two  Friars  Minor,  and  ever 
set  places  for  them  at  his  table,  and  portions  of  all  his  dishes 
before  them.     So  if  any  came,  they  had  this  dinner  ;  but  if  not, 

*  Not  the  Rnffino  of  the  Fioretti. 

f  No  doubt  as  thanksgiving  offerings  for  cures :  perhaps  the  church  was  that 
of  Oiires  by  Grenoble. 


1  78  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

ho  caused  it  to  be  given  to  other  poor  folk.  Moreover,  in  that 
country  dwell  thirteen  Brethren.  Then  came  the  Guardian  and 
said  to  me,  '  Brother,  may  it  please  thee  to  go  and  eat  with  the 
Archbishop,  who  will  take  it  in  excellent  good  part ;  for  it  is  long 
since  the  Brethren  have  eaten  with  him,  because  they  are  wearied 
to  go  thither  so  often.'  But  I  said,  'Father,  forj^ive  me,  and  take 
it  not  ill :  for  1  must  depart  without  delay  after  meat ;  but  the 
Archbishop,  hearing  that  I  was  from  the  Court,  would  hinder  my 
journey  by  asking  after  tidings.'  Then  the  Guai'dian  held  his 
peace,  but  I  said  softly  to  my  comrade,  •  I  have  bethought  me 
that  it  is  well  to  finish  our  journey  while  we  have  fair  weather  and 
good  letters,  that  we  may  quickly  answer  those  who  sent  us,  and 
also  lest  the  Minister-General  come  before  us  to  the  convent  of 
Genoa ;  for  our  own  Minister  would  not  take  our  journey  in  so 
good  part : '  and  that  which  I  said  and  did  pleased  my  comrade. 
So  Ave  departed  therefore  and  passed  through  the  lands  of  the 
Count  Dauphin,  and  so  came  to  Susa.  And  when  we  were  come 
to  Alessandria  we  found  two  Brethren  of  Genoa,  to  whom  my 
comrade  said,  'Know  that  ye  are  losing  Brother  Salimbene  and  his 
comrade  at  Genoa,  for  the  Minister  of  Bologna  is  recalling  them 
to  his  Province.  But  I,  though  I  be  of  Genoa,  will  not  go  thither ; 
but  I  am  purposed  to  return  to  my  convent  of  Novara,  whence 
the  Minister  took  me  when  he  sent  me  to  the  General.  Now 
therefore  take  these  letters  and  give  them  to  the  Minister 
Provincial  of  Genoa  on  the  General's  part.'  Then  he  brought 
forth  his  letters,  and  gave  them  to  my  comrades  [of  Genoa].  So 
on  the  morrow  we  went  from  Alessandria  to  Tortona,  which  is 
ten  miles'  journey  :  and  next  day  to  Genoa,  which  is  a  far 
journey.*  And  the  Brethren  rejoiced  to  see  me,  for  I  was  come 
from  afar,  and  brought  good  tidings. 

"  Now  at  Lyons  I  had  found  Brother  Rinaldo,  of  Arezzo  in 
Tuscany,  who  had  come  to  the  Pope  to  be  absolved  from  his 
Bishopric.  For  he  was  Lector  at  Rieti,  and  when  the  Bishop  of 
that  city  died,  the  folk  found  such  grace  in  him  that  the  canons 
of  one  accord  elected  him.  And  Pope  Innocent,  hearing  of  his 
learning  and  sanctity,  would  not  absolve  him,  nay,  rather,  by  the 
counsel  of  his  brother  Cardinals,  he  straitly  commanded  him  to 
accept  the  Bishopric,  and  afterwards  honoured  him  by  consecrating 
him  personally,  while  I  was  at  Lyons.  A  few  days  therefore 
after  [my  return  to  Genoa]  Brother  Rinaldo  returned  as  a  Bishop 
from  Lyons ;  and  on  Ascension  Day  he  preached  to  the  people, 
and  celebrated  with  his  mitre  on  his  head  in  the  church  of  our 

*  It  is  between  35  and  40  English  miles. 


A  Bishop's  Conscience.  179 

convent  at  Genoa.  And  by  that  time  I  was  a  priest,  and  served 
him  at  Mass,  although  a  deacon  was  there,  and  a  sub-deacon, 
and  other  ministers.  And  he  gave  the  Brethren  a  most  excellent 
dinner  of  sea-fish,  and  other  meats,  eating  familiarly  with  us  in 
the  refectory.  But  the  night  following  after  Mattins,  Brother 
Stephen  the  Englishman  preached  to  the  Brethren  in  the  Bishop's 
hearing,  and  among  other  honied  words  (such  as  he  was  wont  to 
speak),  he  told  a  story  to  the  Bishop's  confusion,  saying :  '  A 
certain  Friar  Minor  in  England,  a  layman,  but  a  holy  man,  spake 
truly  one  day  concerning  the  Easter  candle.  When  it  is  kindled 
to  burn  in  the  church,  it  shines  and  sheds  light  around :  but 
when  the  extinguisher  is  placed  upon  it,  its  light  is  darkened, 
and  it  stinks  in  our  nostrils.  So  it  is  with  a  Friar  Minor  when  he 
is  fully  kindled  and  burns  with  Divine  love  in  the  Order  of  St. 
Francis  :  then  indeed  doth  he  shine  and  shed  light  on  others 
by  his  good  example.  Now  I  bethought  me  yesterday  at  dinner 
how  our  Bishop  suffered  his  Brethren  to  bow  their  knees  to  him 
Avhen  dishes  were  placed  before  him  on  the  table.  To  him, 
therefore  may  we  well  apply  that  word  which  the  English  Brother 
spake.'*  The  Bishop  groaned  to  hear  this  ;  and  when  the  sennon 
was  ended,  he  bent  his  knees  and  besought  Brother  Bertolino  the 
Custode  for  leave  to  speak  ;  (for  the  Minister  Provincial  was  not 
present)  and,  leave  being  given,  he  well  excused  himself, 
saying,  '  I  was  indeed  aforetime  a  candle,  kindled,  burning, 
shining,  and  shedding  light  in  the  Order  of  St.  Francis,  giving 
a  good  example  to  those  that  beheld  me,  as  Brother  Salimbene 
knows,  who  dwelt  two  years  with  me  in  the  convent  of  Siena. 
And  he  knows  well  what  conscience  the  Brethren  of  Tuscany  have 
of  my  past  life ;  nay,  even  in  this  convent  here  the  ancient 
Brethren  know  of  my  conversation  :  for  it  was  on  behalf  of  this 
convent  that  I  was  sent  to  study  at  Paris.  If  the  Brethren  have 
done  me  honour  by  bowing  the  knee  before  me  at  table,  that 
hath  not  proceeded  from  my  ambition  ;  for  I  have  forbidden 
them  often  enough  to  do  thus.  But  it  was  not  in  my  power  to 
beat  them  with  my  staff;  neither  could  I  nor  dared  I  insist  upon 
obedience.  Wherefore  I  pray  you  for  God's  sake  to  hold  me 
excused,  seeing  that  there  was  neither  ambition  nor  vainglory 
in  me.'  Having  thus  spoken,  he  bent  his  knees  (as  I  myself  saw 
and  heard),  confessing  his  fault,  if  by  chance  he  had  given  evil 
example  to  any  man,  and  promising  to  remove,  as  quickly  as 

*  This  anecdote  gains  point  from  the  fact  recorded  by  Eccleston  and  others, 
that  the  English  Province  was  noted  for  its  comparatively  strict  observance  of 
St.  Francis's  rule. 


1 8o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

might  be,  that  extinguisher  which  by  force  had  been  set  over  him. 
After  this  he  commended  himself  to  the  brethren,  and  so  we  led 
him  honourably  forth,  and  accompanied  him  to  an  Abbey  of 
White  Monks  without  the  city,  where  was  an  old  man  who  had 
resigned  of  his  own  free  will  the  Bishopric  of  Turin  that  he  might 
live  more  freely  in  that  cloister  for  himself  and  for  God.  Hearing 
then  that  Brother  Rinaldo  was  a  mighty  clerk  and  had  lately  been 
made  Bishop,  he  sighed  and  said  :  '  I  marvel  how  thou,  a  wise 
man,  art  fallen  so  low  in  folly  as  to  undertake  a  Bishopric, 
whereas  thou  wert  in  that  most  noble  order  of  St.  Francis,  an 
(^rder  of  most  excellent  perfection,  wherein  whosoever  endureth  to 
the  end  shall  without  doubt  be  saved.  Meseemeth  therefore  that 
thou  hast  greatly  erred,  and  art  become  as  it  were  an  apostate, 
because  thou  hast  returned  to  active  life  from  that  state  of 
contemplative  perfection.  For  I  also  was  a  Bishop  like  unto 
thee,  but  when  I  saw  that  I  could  not  correct  the  follies  of  my 
clergy  who  walked  after  vanity,  then  "  my  soul  rather  chose 
hanging :  "  I  resigned  therefore  my  Bishopric  and  my  clergy 
and  chose  rather  to  save  mine  own  soul.  And  this  I  did  after 
the  example  of  St.  Benedict,  who  left  the  company  of  certain 
monks  for  that  he  had  found  them  froward  and  wicked.' 

"  When  therefore  Brother  Rinaldo  had  heard  these  words,  he 
made  no  answer,  though  he  was  a  man  of  learning  and  of  great  wit ; 
for  the  Bishop's  words  were  to  his  mind,  and  he  knew  that  he 
had  spoken  truth.  Then  I  answered  and  said  to  the  Bishop  of 
Turin,  lest  he  should  seem  wise  in  his  own  eyes,  '  Father,  lo  thou 
sayest  that  thou  hast  forsaken  thy  clergy,  but  consider  whether 
thou  hast  done  well.  For  Pope  Innocent  III  among  many  other 
things  said  to  a  certain  Bishop  who  would  have  refused  his 
Bishopric,  "  Think  not  that  because  Mary  hath  chosen  the  best 
part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her,  therefore  Martha 
hath  chosen  an  evil  part  in  that  she  was  busy  about  many  things  : 
for,  though  the  contemplative  life  be  more  free  from  care,  yet  is 
the  active  life  the  more  fruitful  :  though  the  former  be  sweeter, 
yet  is  the  latter  more  profitable :  for  Leah  the  blear-eyed  sur- 
passed in  fertility  of  offspring  the  well-favoured  Rachel.  ' ' 

"  When  therefore  I  had  spoken  thus,  the  Bishops  listened  on 
either  side,  but  Brother  Rinaldo  answered  me  not  a  word,  lest  he 
should  seem  to  delight  in  his  Bishopric.  For  he  purposed  in  his 
mind  to  lay  down  the  load  imposed  upon  him  as  soon  as  a  fit 
season  should  come.  He  went  therefore  to  his  Bishopric,  and 
when  he  was  come  thither  the  canons  came  to  see  him,  and  told 
him  of  a  certain  wanton  fellow-canon  of  theirs,  who  seemed 
rather  a  layman  than  a  clerk,  for  he  had  long  hair  even  to  his 


1 


A  Bishop's  Conscience.  1 8 1 

shoulders,  and  would  wear  no  tonsure.  And  the  Bishop  dragged 
him  by  the  hair  and  smote  him  on  the  cheek,  and  called  his  parents 
and  kinsfolk,  who  were  noble,  rich,  and  powerful,  and  said  to 
them,  '  Let  this  son  of  jours  either  choose  the  life  of  a  layman, 
or  wear  such  a  habit  as  may  show  him  to  be  a  clerk  ;  for  I  can  in 
no  wise  suffer  that  he  go  thus  clad.'  And  his  parents  answered 
and  said  to  the  Bishop,  '  It  is  our  pleasure  that  he  should  be  a 
clerk,  and  that  ye  should  do  to  him  whatsoever  seems  to  you 
honest  and  good.'  Then  with  his  own  hands  the  Bishop  cut  his 
hair  and  made  him  a  tonsure,  round  and  great,  in  the  figure  of  a 
circle,  that  therein  he  might  for  the  future  be  amended  wherein 
he  had  aforetime  sinned.  And  he  to  whom  these  things  were 
done  was  grieved,  but  the  canons  rejoiced  beyond  measure. 

"  When  therefore  Brother  Einaldo  could  no  longer  dissemble 
with  a  whole  conscience  the  works  of  his  clergy,  seeing  that  they 
would  not  return  to  the  way  of  honesty  and  righteousness,  he 
visited  Pope  Innocent  I V,  who  was  come  to  Genoa,  and  resigned 
the  dignity  which  had  been  conferred  on  him  at  Lyons,  saying 
that  he  was  wholly  purposed  from  thenceforward  to  be  no  Bishop. 
The  Pope,  seeing  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  promised  to  absolve  him 
when  he  should  be  come  to  Tuscany  ;  for  he  hoped  that  perchance 
Brother  Rinaldo  would  yet  change  his  mind,  which  however  was 
far  from  him.  So  Brother  Rinaldo  came  and  dwelt  many  days 
at  Bologna,  hoping  that  the  Pope  would  pass  that  way  into 
Tuscany  ;  and  when  the  Holy  Father  had  come  to  Perugia 
Brother  Rinaldo  came  to  him,  and  before  the  cardinals  in  Con- 
sistory resigned  his  office  and  benefice,  laying  his  pontificals,  that 
is,  his  staff,  his  mitre,  and  his  ring,  at  the  Supreme  PontiflTs  feet. 
And  the  Cardinals  marvelled  and  were  troubled,  seeing  how 
Brother  Rinaldo  seemed  therein  to  derogate  from  their  state,  as 
though  they  were  not  in  a  state  of  salvation,  being  promoted  to 
dignities  and  prelacies.  The  Pope  likewise  was  troubled,  for  that 
he  had  consecrated  him  with  his  own  hands,  believing  himself  to 
have  conferred  a  fit  man  upon  the  church  of  Rieti,  as  all  held  him 
to  be,  and  as  indeed  he  was.  So  the  Cardinals  and  the  Pope  prayed 
him  instantly  for  the  love  of  God  and  for  their  honour  and  for 
the  profit  of  the  Church  and  the  salvation  of  souls  that  he  should 
not  renounce  his  dignity.  But  he  answered  that  they  laboured 
thus  in  vain.  And  the  Cardinals  said,  '  What  if  an  angel  hath 
spoken  to  him,  or  God  hath  revealed  this  to  him  ?  '  Then  the 
Pope,  perceiving  his  steadfast  purpose,  said  to  him,  *  Although 
thou  wilt  not  have  the  thought  and  care  of  Episcopal  rule,  yet  let 
the  pontifical  powers  at  least  be  left,  and  keep  dignity  and 
authority  to  ordain  others,  that  thy  Order  may  thus  have  some 


1 82  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

profit  from  thee.'  And  he  answered,  '  I  will  keep  nothing  what- 
soever.' So,  being  absolved  from  his  office,  he  came  to  the 
Friars  that  same  day  :  and,  taking  his  bag  or  wallet  or  basket, 
he  besought  leave  to  go  with  the  almoner  begging  for  bread. 
And  as  he  went  thus  begging  through  the  city  of  Perugia  a  certain 
Cardinal  met  him  on  his  way  back  from  the  Consistory,  perchance 
by  the  will  of  God,  that  he  might  see,  teach,  and  hear.  Who, 
knowing  him  well,  said  to  him,  '  Wert  thou  not  better  to  be  still 
a  Bishop  than  to  go  begging  from  door  to  door  ?  '  But  Brother 
Rinaldo  answered  him,  'The  Wise  Man  saith  in  Proverbs,  "It 
is  better  to  be  humbled  with  the  meek  than  to  divide  spoils  with 
the  proud."  As  to  my  Bishopric,  I  grant  indeed  that  it  is  more 
blessed  to  bestow  spiritual  gifts  than  to  beg  them  from  others  : 
but  the  Friars  Minor  do  indeed  bestow  such  gifts  ;  whereof  the 
Psalmist  saith  "  Take  a  psalm  and  bring  hither  the  timbrel," 
which  is  to  say  "  Take  spiritual  gifts  and  bring  hither  temporal 
gifts."*  Wherefore  I  will  cleave  to  the  end  to  this  way  which  1 
have  learnt  in  the  Order,  as  the  blessed  Job  saith,  "Till  I  die 
I  will  not  depart  from  my  innocence  :  my  justification,  which 
1  have  begun  to  hold,  I  will  not  forsake."  However,  as  the 
Apostle  saith,  "Everyone  hath  his  proper  gift  from  God,  one 
after  this  manner,  and  another  after  that :  "  yet  "  Some  trust  in 
chariots  and  some  in  horses,  but  we  will  call  upon  the  name  of 
the  Lord  our  God." '  The  Cardinal,  hearing  this,  and  knowing 
that  God  had  spoken  through  the  mouth  of  his  saint,  departed 
from  him,  and  reported  all  his  words  on  the  morrow  to  the  Pope 
and  Cardinals  in  Consistory  :  and  they  all  marvelled.  But  Brother 
Rinaldo  told  the  Minister-General,  Brother  John  of  Parma,  to 
send  him  to  dwell  wheresoever  he  would  ;  and  he  sent  him  to  the 
convent  of  Siena,  where  he  was  known  to  many ;  and  there  he 
dwelt  from  All  Saints  until  after  Christmas,  and  so  he  died  and 
went  to  God.  Now  as  he  lay  sick  of  the  sickness  whereof  he  died, 
there  was  at  Siena  a  certain  canon  of  the  cathedral  church  who 
had  lain  six  years  palsied  in  bed,  and  with  all  the  devotion  of  his 
heart  had  recommended  himself  to  Brother  Rinaldo.  He,  about 
daybreak,  heard  in  his  dreams  a  voice  that  said  unto  him,  '  Know 
thou  that  Brother  Rinaldo  hath  passed  from  this  world  to  the 
Father,  and  through  his  merits  God  hath  made  thee  altogether 
whole.'  And  waking  forthwith,  and  feeling  himself  wholly  de- 
livered from  that  sickness,  he  called  his  boy  to  bring  his  garments, 

*  This  explanation  is  from  the  Olossa  Ordinaria,  and  well  exemplifies  the 
confusion  imported  into  medieval  theology  by  this  habit  of  arguing  from  far- 
fetched traditional  glosses  as  almost  equal  in  authority  to  the  Bible  text. 


A  Bishop's  Conscience.  1 83 

and  going  to  the  chamber  of  a  fellow-canon,  told  him  of  this  new 
miracle,  and  both  hastened  forthwith  to  the  Brethren  to  tell  them 
this  evident  miracle  which  God  had  deigned  to  work  that  night 
by  the  merits  of  the  blessed  Rinaldo.  And  when  they  were  come 
out  of  the  town  gate  they  heard  the  Brethren  chanting  as  they 
carried  his  body  to  church  ;  and  so  they  were  present  at  his 
funeral,  and  afterwards  related  the  miracle  with  joy  ;  and  the 
Brethren  rejoiced,  saying  '  Blessed  be  God.'  Such  was  Brother 
Rinaldo  of  Arezzo,  of  the  Order  of  the  Friars  Minor,  Bishop  of 
Rieti,  who  in  his  life  wrought  marvels,  and  in  his  death  did  yet 
greater  wonders.  He  was  a  man  of  most  excellent  learning,  a 
great  Lector  in  theology,  a  splendid  and  gracious  preacher,  both 
to  clergy  and  to  people,  for  he  had  a  most  eloquent  tongue  that 
never  stumbled,  and  was  a  man  of  great  heart.  Two  years  1 
dwelt  with  him  in  the  convent  of  Siena,  and  saw  him  oft-times 
in  those  of  Lyons  and  Genoa.  1  could  not  have  believed,  if  any 
man  had  told  me,  that  Tuscany  could  have  produced  such  a  man, 
unless  I  had  seen  it  with  mine  own  eyes.*  He  had  a  blood- 
brother  in  the  Order  of  Vallombrosa,  who  was  Abbot  of  the 
monastery  of  Bertinoro  in  Romagnola,  {Furg.  xiv.  112)  a  holy, 
learned,  and  good  man,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  Friars  Minor ; 
may  his  soul  rest  in  peace  ! 

(332)  "  Moreover,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1249,  after  the  Feast 
of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  I  departed  from  the  Convent  of  Genoa 
with  my  comrade,  and  we  came  to  Bobbio,  and  saw  one  of  the 
water-pots  wherein  the  Lord  turned  water  into  wine  at  the 
wedding-feast,  for  it  is  said  to  be  one  of  them.  Whether  it  be  so 
indeed,  God  knoweth,  to  Whose  eyes  all  things  are  naked  and 
open.  Therein  are  many  relics ;  it  stands  on  the  altar  of  the 
monastery  of  Bobbio,  and  there  are  many  relics  of  the  blessed 
Columban,  which  we  saw.  Afterwards  we  came  to  Parma, 
where  we  had  been  before,  and  there  we  did  our  business.  Now 
after  our  departure  from  Genoa,  the  Minister-General,  Brother 
John  of  Parma,  came  thither ;  to  whom  the  Brethren  said, 
*  Wherefore,  Father,  hast  thou  taken  away  from  us  our  Brethren, 
whom  thou  hadst  sent  hither?  We  rejoiced  in  your  love,  for 
that  they  were  here  with  us,  and  for  that  they  are  good  Brethren, 
and  full  of  consolation,  and  have  behaved  themselves  well.' 
Then  the  Minister  answered  and  said,  '  Where  then  are  they  ? 
Are  they  not  in  this  Convent  ?  '     And  they  said,  '  No,  Fathei*, 

*  Compare  the  character  which  Salimbene  has  already  given  to  the  Tuscans 
in  his  account  of  the  Great  Alleluia,  and  Sacchetti's  letter  to  Giacomo  di  Conte. 
The  Saints  of  the  Order  came  far  more  from  mountain  districts  like  Umbria  and 
the  Mark  of  Aucona  than  from  the  great  towns. 


1 84  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

for  Brother  Ruffino  of  Bologna  hath  recalled  them  to  his  Province.' 
Then  said  the  General,  '  God  knoweth  I  knew  nothing  of  this 
command  ;  nay,  rather,  I  believed  that  they  were  in  this  house, 
and  marvelled  much  that  they  came  not  to  me.'  Afterwards  he 
found  us  at  Parma,  and  said  to  us  with  a  merry  face,  '  Ye  are 
much  abroad,  my  children,  now  in  France,  now  in  Burgundy, 
now  in  Provence,  now  in  the  Convent  of  Genoa,  and  now  ye 
purpose  to  dwell  in  that  of  Parma.  If  I  might  rest  as  ye  may 
I  would  not  wander  so  much  abroad.'  And  I  said  to  him,  *  On 
you.  Father,  falls  the  labour  of  travelling  by  reason  of  your 
ministry  ;  but  know  of  us  that  true  and  pure  obedience  has 
always  been  our  part.'  Hearing  this,  he  was  satisfied,  for  he 
loved  us.  And  when  we  were  at  Bologna,  he  said  one  day  in  his 
chamber  to  the  Minister,  Brother  Ruffino,  '  I  had  placed  those 
Brethren  in  the  Convent  of  Genoa  to  study,  and  thou  hast 
removed  them  thence.'  Brother  Ruffino  answered,  *  Father, 
this  I  did  for  their  consolation,  for  I  had  sent  them  to  France  in 
the  days  when  the  Emperor  was  besieging  Parma,  and  thought 
therefore  to  comfort  them  by  recalling  them.'  Then  said  I  to 
the  Minister-General,  '  Yea,  Father,  it  was  as  he  saith.'  Then 
said  the  General  to  him,  '  Thou  wilt  therefore  place  them  well, 
that  they  may  be  comforted,  and  attend  to  their  studies,  and 
wander  not  so  much  abroad.'  To  whom  Brother  Ruffino 
answered,  '  Gladly,  Father,  will  I  do  them  favour  and  comfort, 
for  your  love  and  for  theirs.'  Then  he  kept  my  comrade  at 
Bologna  to  correct  his  Bible  for  him  ;  but  me  he  sent  to  Ferrara, 
where  I  lived  seven  years  continuously  without  changing  my 
abode." 


Chapter  XVI. 
Settling  Down. 

SEVEN  years  on  end  I  With  what  tell-tale  emphasis  Salim- 
bene  writes  here,  and  repeats  elsewhere,  this  significant 
phrase  !  Hitherto  he  had  travelled  about  pretty  much  as  he 
pleased  ;  if  only  by  getting  different  "  obediences  "  from  differ- 
ent authorities,  and  choosing  whichever  pleased  him  best :  for 
we  see  clearly  in  his  pages  how  impossible  it  was  even  for  the 
untiring  John  of  Parma  to  superintend  more  thau  a  small 
fraction  of  so  extensive  an  Order,  with  all  its  complicated  details 
and  overlappings  of  jurisdiction.  One  can  realize  too  how  easily 
the  more  wayward  friars  could  manage  to  live  in  vagabondage 
for  years  ;  and  Wadding's  records  of  constant  complaints  on  this 
subject,  in  spite  of  vainly-repeated  papal  anathemas,  are  seen  to 
be  natural  enough.  From  this  arrival  at  Ferrara  onwards,  we 
find  far  fewer  autobiographical  records,  until  Salimbene's  last 
few  years  brought  him  again  into  the  mid  vortex  of  civil  war. 
It  seems  that  for  a  period  of  about  32  years,  from  1249  to  1281, 
our  good  friar  lived  a  comparatively  uneventful  convent  life, 
studying,  preaching,  writing,  always  observing  no  doubt,  but  with 
fewer  experiences  of  the  sort  that  would  specially  interest  his 
niece  in  her  convent.  If  only  he  had  kept  a  business  diary  dur- 
ing those  years,  like  his  acquaintance  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen, 
and  passed  down  to  us  a  record  of  that  daily  convent  life  which 
was  too  trivial  to  be  told  to  Sister  Agnes  I 

Yet  even  this  comparatively  statioflary  and  uniform  life  was 
not  without  many  distractions.  Prof.  Holder-Egger  points  out 
that  a  chance  observation  of  Salimbene's  suggests  the  probabil- 
ity of  brief  wanderings  even  during  the  "  seven  continuous 
years"  of  Ferrara  (p.  41, 7iote  3).  Prof.  Michael  had  previously 
traced  Salimbene's  places  of  abode  during  the  next  few  years, 
and  they  make  a  very  varied  list.  After  the  Ferrara  years  came 
a  long  abode  in  Romagna — five  years  altogether  at  Ravenna,  five 
at  Imola,  and  five  at  Faenza,  of  which  periods  however  the  two 
last  were  certainly  not  unbroken  and  consecutive.     One  year  he 


1 86  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

spent  at  Bagiiacavallo,  and  one  at  Montereggio  :  another  jeav 
he  passed  in  his  native  Parma, — probably  only  off  and  on.  In 
1259  we  find  him  in  neighbouring  Borgo  san  Donnino  :  twice 
again  in  neighbouring  Modena.  He  went  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Assisi,  some  time  after  1270.  He  was  at  Forli  when  it  was  be- 
sieged in  1273,  and  at  Faenza  during  the  siege  of  1274.  In 
1281,  at  last,  he  came  to  end  his  days  in  his  native  province  of 
Emilia. 

It  is  quite  possible  that,  as  Michael  supposes,  he  worked  hard 
as  preacher  and  confessor  all  these  years,  though  the  quotation 
adduced  scarcely  goes  so  far  as  this  :  "  I  have  now  lived  in  the 
Order  many  years  as  a  priest  and  preacher,  and  have  seen  many 
things  and  dwelt  in  many  provinces  and  learnt  much."  (38) 
He  was  no  doubt  always  sociable,  always  busy,  always  popular, 
but  nothing  in  his  chronicle  seems  to  imply  that  he  worked  really 
hard  among  the  people  :  and  certainly  he  always  lent  his  heart 
out  with  usury  to  just  those  worldly  sights  and  sounds,  just  those 
innumerable  and  thoroughly  human  trifles,  which  the  disciplinar- 
ians of  his  Order  tried  so  earnestly  to  exclude  from  a  friar's  life. 

He  read  hard  undoubtedly,  or  he  would  never  have  known  his 
Bible  so  well  :  though  here  and  there  his  strings  of  quotations 
seem  to  smack  rather  of  the  concordance,  which  was  the  inven- 
tion of  a  13th  century  Dominican,  to  whom  our  good  Franciscan 
pays  a  somewhat  grudging  tribute  on  p.  175.  And  he  wrote 
busily  too, — witness  the  list  of  his  writings,  mostly  compilations, 
and  now  all  unfortunately  lost  but  one.  First,  in  1250,  he  wrote 
his  "  Chronicle  beginning :  Octavianus  Ccesar  Augitstics."  (217)  : 
in  another  place  he  tells  us  that  he  wrote  three  other  chronicles 
besides  the  one  which  has  survived  (293).  One  of  these  may  be 
the  "  Treatise  of  Pope  Gregory  X  "  to  which  he  refers  on  page 
245  (a.d.  1266)  :  and  another  the  chronicle  concerning  Frederick 
II  (204,  344,  592).  The  "Treatise  of  Elisha  "  (293)  and  the 
"  Types  and  Examples,  Signs  and  Figures  and  Mysteries  of  Both 
Testaments"  (238)  were  doubtless  of  a  purely  theological  char- 
acter. Another  was  app^ently  in  verse,  an  imitation  of  Patec- 
chio's  satirical  "  Book  of  Pests."  (464)  Two  other  treatises 
have  been  preserved  by  the  happy  impulse  which  prompted  the 
author  to  copy  them  bodily  into  the  present  chronicle  :  these  are 
the  "  Book  of  the  Prelate,"  a  violent  pamphlet  against  Brother 
Elias,  from  which  I  have  already  quoted  and  shall  quote  again 
(96  foil.)  and  the  "  Treatise  of  the  Lord's  Bodv,"  mainly 
liturgical  (336  foil.) 

But  his  life  during  these  32  years  was  by  no  means  entirely 
devoid  of  outward  interest :  as  the  rest  of  this  chapter  will  show. 


Settling  Down.  187 

To  begin  chronologically  with  the  seven  years  at  Ferrara  :  here 
he  found  himself  a  close  spectator  of  the  cruelties  of  Ezzelino 
and  his  Brother  Alberigo,  and  of  the  crusade  which  finally 
crushed  the  former.  Here  too  he  heard  of  Frederick's  death, 
and  saw  the  Pope  come  home  in  triumph  from  his  long  exile  at 
Lyons.  This  was  in  1251,  while  Europe  was  still  shuddering  at 
the  failure  of  St.  Louis'  first  crusade  and  mourning  for  thousands 
of  Christians  slain  :  but  no  news  of  public  disaster  to  Christen- 
dom could  spoil  the  Pope's  private  triumph.  (445)  "  He  came  in 
the  month  of  May  to  his  own  native  city  of  Genoa,  and  there 
gave  a  wife  to  one  of  his  nephews  ;  at  whose  wedding  he  himself 
was  present  with  his  cardinals  and  80  bishops  ;  and  at  that  feast 
were  many  dishes  and  courses  and  varieties  of  meats,  with  divers 
choice  and  jocund  wines ;  and  each  course  of  dishes  cost  many 
marks.  No  such  great  and  pompous  wedding  as  this  was 
celebrated  in  my  days  in  any  country,  whether  we  consider  the 
guests  who  were  present  or  the  meats  that  were  set  before 
them  :  so  that  the  Queen  of  Sheba  herself  would  have  marvelled 
to  see  it." 

Meanwhile  very  diflferent  events  were  taking  place  in  the  land 
which  the  Pope  had  just  left.  The  common  people  of  France, 
indignant  at  the  failure  of  their  nobles  in  the  Crusade,  rose  under 
a  leader  who  boasted  that  he  had  no  mere  papal  or  episcopal 
authority,  but  a  letter  direct  from  the  Virgin  Mary,  which  he 
held  night  and  day  in  his  clenched  hand.  So  writes  Matthew 
Paris,  whose  very  full  account,  from  the  lips  of  an  English  monk 
^who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  these  Pastoureaux,  confirms 
the  briefer  notice  of  Salimbene.  (444)  "  lu  this  year  an 
innumerable  host  of  shepherds  was  gathered  together  in  France, 
saying  that  they  must  cross  the  sea  to  slay  the  Saracens  and 
avenge  the  King  of  France  :  and  many  followed  them  from 
divers  cities  of  France,  nor  dared  any  man  withstand  them,  but 
all  gave  them  food  and  whatsoever  they  desired  ;  wherefore  the 
very  shepherds  left  their  flocks  to  join  them.  For  their  leader 
told  how  God  had  revealed  to  him  that  the  sea  should  be  parted 
before  him,  and  he  should  lead  that  innumerable  host  to  avenge 
the  King  of  France.  But  I,  when  I  heard  this,  said  '  Woe  to 
the  shepherds  that  desert  their  sheep.  Where  the  King  of 
France  could  do  so  little  with  his  armed  host,  what  shall  these 
fellows  do  ?  '  Yet  the  common  folk  of  France  believed  in  them, 
and  were  terribly  provoked  against  the  Religious,  more  especially 
against  the  Friars  Preachers  and  Minors,  for  that  they  had 
preached  the  Crusade  and  given  men  crosses  to  go  beyond  seas 
with  the  King,  who  had  now  been  conquered  by  the  Saracens. 


1 88  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

So  those  French  who  were  then  left  in  France  were  wroth  against 
Christ,  to  such  a  degree  that  they  presumed  to  blaspheme  His 
Name,  which  is  blessed  above  all  other  names.  For  in  those 
days  when  the  Friars  Minor  and  Preachers  begged  alms  in  France 
in  Christ's  name,  men  gnashed  with  their  teeth  on  them  ;  then, 
before  their  very  faces,  they  would  call  some  other  poor  man  and 
give  him  money  and  say,  *  Take  that  in  Mahomet's  name ;  for 
he  is  stronger  than  Christ.'  So  our  Lord's  word  was  fulfilled  in 
them  *  They  believe  for  a  while,  and  in  time  of  temptation  they 
fall  away.'  Wretched  misery  I  whereas  the  King  of  France  was 
not  provoked  to  wrath,  but  suffered  patiently,  these  men  were 
goaded  to  fury  I  Moreover  that  host  of  shepherds  destroyed 
a  whole  Dominican  convent  in  one  city  so  utterly  that  not  one 
stone  was  left  upon  another,  and  this  because  the  friars  had 
dared  to  speak  a  word  against  them.  But  in  this  same  year 
they  were  brought  to  nought,  and  their  whole  congregation  was 
utterly  destroyed."  Matthew  Paris  tells  us  how  the  Pastoureaux 
owed  much  of  their  popularity  to  their  attacks  on  the  clergy, 
especially  upon  the  friars :  he  looks  upon  these  crusaders  as 
precursors  of  Antichrist,  but  admits  that  many  pious  folk, 
including  the  severe  queen  Blanche  herself,  favoured  their 
preaching  at  first,  in  spite  of  its  entire  lack  of  ecclesiastical 
authority.  He  speaks  also  in  the  strongest  terras  of  the  wide- 
spread infidelity  in  France  at  that  time  :  "  faith  began  to  waver 
in  the  kingdom  of  France  :  "  "  the  devil  ....  saw  that  the 
Christian  faith  was  tottering  to  its  fall  even  in  the  sweet  realm 
of  France."  A  few  pages  higher  up,  under  the  year  1250,  after 
describing  the  outbreak  of  blasphemy  among  the  French  at  the 
first  news  of  St.  Louis'  failure,  he  adds :  "  Moreover  the  most 
noble  city  of  Venice,  and  many  cities  of  Italy  whose  inhabitants 
are  but  half-Christians,  would  have  fallen  into  apostasy  if  they 
had  not  been  comforted  and  strengthened  by  bishops  and  holy 
men  of  Religion." 

After  his  nephew's  wedding  at  Genoa,  Innocent  IV  "came 
through  Brescia  and  Mantua  (445)  to  the  great  Abbey  of  San 
Benedetto  di  Polirone,  where  the  Countess  Matilda  lieth  buried  in 
a  tomb  of  marble  :  in  whose  honour  the  Pope  with  his  cardinals 
recited  the  psalm  De  Profundis  around  her  grave ;  for  they  were 
mindful  of  the  benefits  which  she  had  conferred  in  old  time  on 
the  Roman  Church  and  Pontiffs.  Then  he  came  on  to  Ferrara, 
where  I  dwelt.  So  when  he  should  have  entered  the  city,  he 
sent  word  that  the  Friars  Minor  should  come  out  to  meet  him, 
and  abide  ever  by  his  side  ;  which  we  did  all  along  the  Via  San 
Paolo.    His  messenger  this  time  was  a  certain  Brother  of  Parma 


Settling  Down.  i  89 

named  Buiolo,  who  dwelt  with  the  Pope  and  was  of  his  family  :  and 
the  Pope's  confessor  was  another  Minorite,  Brother  Nicholas,  [the 
Englishman]  my  friend,  whom  the  Pope  made  Bishop  of  Assisi  :^ 
and  there  was  likewise  in  the  Holy  Father's  household  my  friend 
and  companion  Brother  Lorenzo,  whom  he  afterwards  made  Bishop 
of  Antivari  [in  Greece],  and  there  were  yet  two  other  Friars  Minor 
in  the  Pope  s  household.  And  the  Pope  stayed  many  days  at 
Ferrara,  until  the  octave  of  St.  Francis,  and  he  preached  a  sermon 
standing  at  the  window  of  the  Bishop's  palace  ;  and  certain 
cardinals  stood  by  him  on  either  side,  one  of  whom,  the  Lord 
William  his  nephew,  made  the  Confession  in  a  loud  voice  after 
the  sermon.  For  there  was  a  great  multitude  gathered  together 
as  for  judgment ;  and  the  Pope  took  for  his  text  '  Blessed  is  the 
nation  whose  God  is  the  Lord  :  the  people  whom  He  hath  chosen 
for  His  inheritance.'  And  after  his  sermon  he  said  :  '  The  Lord 
hath  kept  me  on  my  journey  from  Italy,  and  while  I  dwelt  at 
Lyons,  and  on  my  way  back  hither  ;  blessed  be  He  for  ever  and 
ever  ! '  And  he  added  :  *  This  is  mine  own  city  ;  1  beseech  you 
to  live  in  peace  ;  for  the  lord  who  was  once  your  Emperor  and 
who  persecuted  the  Church,  is  now  dead.'  Now  I  stood  hard 
by  the  Pope,  so  that  I  might  have  touched  him  when  I  would  ; 
for  he  was  glad  to  have  Friars  Minor  about  him.  Then  Brother 
Gerardino  of  Parma,  who  was  the  master  of  Brother  Bonagrazia 
[the  Minister-General],  touched  me  with  his  elbow  and  said  : 
*  Hear  now  that  the  Emperor  is  dead  :  for  until  now  thou  hast  been 
unbelieving  ;  leave  therefore  thy  Joachim.'  Moreover  in  those 
days  when  the  Pope  dwelt  at  Farrara,  the  cardinals  sent  us  oft- 
times  swine  ready  slaughtered  and  scalded  which  men  gave  them 
continually  :  and  we  in  our  turn  gave  thereof  to  our  Sisters  of 
the  Order  of  St.  Clare.  Moreover  the  Pope's  seneschal  sent  word 
to  us  saying  :  '  To-morrow  the  Holy  Father  will  depart :  send 
me  therefore  your  porters,  and  I  will  give  you  bread  and  wine 
for  yourselves,  seeing  that  we  have  no  further  need  thereof : ' 
and  so  we  did.  And  when  the  Pope  was  come  to  Bologna,  he 
was  received  with  great  pomp  by  the  citizens  :  but  he  tarried 
little  with  them,  departing  in  haste,  and  wroth  for  that  they 
besought  him  to  give  them  Medicina,  which  is  a  Church  estate 
in  the  Bishopric  of  Bologna,  and  which  they  had  long  held  by 
force.  He  therefore  would  not  listen  to  their  petition,  but  said, 
'  Ye  hold  Church  lands  by  force,  and  now  ye  beg  the  same  as  a 
gift  ?  Get  you  hence  in  God's  name,  for  I  will  not  hear  your 
petition.'  But  at  his  departure  he  found  many  fair  and  noble 
ladies  of  Bologna  gathered  together,  who  had  come  from  the 
villages  to  the  road  by  which  he  must  pass,  for  they  were  fain  to 


1 90  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

see  him  :  so  he  blessed  them  in  the  Lord's  name  and  went  on  his 
way  and  dwelt  at  Perugia." 

It  will  be  seen  that  Salimbene  was  never  slow  to  take  the  place 
to  which  he  felt  himself  entitled  hj  his  birth  and  his  abilities  : 
and  on  one  occasion  at  least,  about  the  year  1256,  he  was 
entrusted  with  the  responsible  office  of  peacemaker  between 
Bologna  and  Reggio.  On  another  occasion  (451)  we  find  him  a 
guest  at  the  villa  of  Ghiberto  da  Gente,  Podesta  of  Parma,  who 
tried  to  make  use  of  our  friend  to  further  his  designs  on  Reggio  : 
but  Salimbene  did  not  like  the  job,  and  remembered  opportunely 
tliat  "  Tlie  Apostle  saith  in  his  second  Epistle  to  Timothy  :  '  No 
man  being  a  soldier  to  God  entangleth  himself  with  secular 
businesses.'  "  Later  on,  when  Ghiberto  had  fallen  from  his  high 
estate  in  Parma,  it  was  the  friar's  turn  to  plead,  and  equally  in 
vain.  "  Being  in  his  villa  of  Campigine  I  said  to  him,  '  What 
now,  my  Lord  Ghiberto?  Why  enter  ye  not  into  our  Order  ?  ' 
Then  he  answered  and  said :  '  And  what  would  ye  now  do  with 
me,  who  am  an  old  man  of  60  years  and  more  ?  '  And  I  said  : 
'  Ye  would  give  a  good  example  to  others,  and  would  save  your 
own  soul.'  He  then  answered  and  said :  '  1  know  that  ye  give 
me  profitable  counsel ;  but  I  cannot  hear  you,  for  my  heart  is 
wholly  concerned  with  other  matters.'  And,  in  short,  I  besought 
him  long  and  instantly,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  do  well :  for 
he  "  devised  iniquity  on  his  bed,"  hoping  to  be  avenged  of  the 
men  of  Parma  and  Reggio  who  had  deposed  him  from  his  lordship 
there.  He  died  at  Ancoua  and  was  there  buried  :  and  he  assigned 
certain  yearly  rents  of  his  meadows  in  the  Bishopric  of  Parma 
to  the  Friars  Minor  and  Preachers,  that  they  might  enjoy  them 
duriqg  a  certain  term  of  years  as  conscience  money  for  his  ill- 
gotten  gains :  and  so  they  have  indeed  enjoyed  them  ;  may  his 
soul  of  God's  mercy  rest  in  peace  !  Amen."  Salimbene's  third 
and  last  political  mission  will  be  told  in  its  place  under  the  year 
1285. 

1258  had  been  a  year  of  famine;  and  then  (464)  "Next 
year  a  great  pestilence  fell  upon  men  and  women,  so  that  at  the 
office  of  Vespers  we  had  two  dead  together  in  our  church.  This 
curse  began  in  Passion-week,  so  that  in  the  whole  Province  of 
Bologna  the  Friars  Minor  could  not  hold  their  services  on  Palm- 
Sunday,  for  they  were  hindered  by  a  sort  of  numbness.  And  this 
lasted  many  months  :  whereof  three  hundred  and  more  died  in 
Borgo  San  Donnino,  and  in  Milan  and  Florence  many  thousands  ; 
nor  did  men  toll  the  bells,  lest  the  sick  should  be  afraid."  Famine 
and  pestilence  led  to  a  great  religious  revival,  beginning  as  usual 
among  the  common  people.      (465)      "  The   Flagellants   came 


Settling  Down.  1 9 1 

through  the  whole  world ;  and  all  men,  both  small  and  great, 
noble  knights  and  men  of  the  people,  scourged  themselves  naked 
in  procession  through  the  cities,  with  the  Bishops  and  men 
of  Religion  at  their  head ;  and  peace  was  made  in  man  j 
places,  and  men  restored  what  thej  had  unlawfully  taken  away, 
and  they  confessed  their  sins  so  earnestly  that  the  priests  had 
scarce  leisure  to  eat.  And  in  their  mouths  sounded  words  of 
God  and  not  of  man,  and  their  voice  was  as  the  voice  of  a  multi- 
tude :  and  men  walked  in  the  way  of  salvation,  and  composed 
godly  songs  of  praise  in  honour  of  the  Lord  and  the  Blessed 
Virgin  :  and  these  they  sang  as  they  went  and  scourged  them- 
selves. And  on  the  Monday,  which  was  the  Feast  of  All  Saints, 
all  those  men  came  from  Modena  to  Reggio,  both  small  and 
great ;  and  all  of  the  district  of  Modena  came,  and  the  Podesta 
and  the  Bishop  with  the  banners  of  all  the  Gilds  ;  and  they 
scourged  themselves  through  the  whole  city,  and  the  greater 
part  passed  on  to  Parma  on  the  Tuesday  following.  So  on  the 
morrow  all  the  men  of  Reggio  made  banners  for  each  quarter  of 
the  town,  and  held  processions  around  the  city,  and  the  Podesta 
went  likewise  scourging  himself.  And  the  men  of  Sassuolo  at 
the  beginning  of  this  blessed  time  took  me  away  with  the  leave 
of  the  Guardian  of  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Modena, 
where  I  dwelt  at  that  time,  and  brought  me  to  Sassuolo,  for  both 
men  and  women  loved  me  well ;  afterwards  they  brought  me 
to  Reggio  and  then  to  Parma.  And  when  we  were  come  to 
Parma  this  Devotion  was  already  there,  for  it  flew  as  '  an  eagle 
flying  to  the  prey,'  and  lasted  many  days  in  our  city,  nor  was 
tliere  any  so  austere  and  old  but  that  he  scourged  himself  gladly. 
Moreover,  if  any  would  not  scourge  himself,  he  was  held  worse 
than  the  Devil,  and  all  pointed  their  finger  at  him  as  a  notorious 
man  and  a  limb  of  Satan  :  and  what  is  more,  within  a  short  time 
he  would  fall  into  some  mishap,  either  of  death  or  of  grievous 
sickness.  Pallavicino  only,  who  was  then  Lord  of  Cremona, 
avoided  this  blessing  and  this  Devotion  with  his  fellow-citizens 
of  Cremona ;  for  he  caused  gallows  to  be  set  up  by  the  bank  of 
the  River  Po,  in  order  that  if  any  came  to  the  city  with  this 
manner  of  scourging  he  might  die  on  the  gibbet  :  for  he  loved 
the  good  things  of  this  life  better  than  the  salvation  of  souls, 
and  the  world's  glory  better  than  the  glory  of  God.  Nevertheless 
many  brave  youths  of  Parma  were  fully  resolved  to  go  thither, 
for  they  were  glad  to  die  for  the  Catholic  Faith,  and  for  God's 
honour  and  the  remission  of  their  sins.  And  I  was  then  at  Parma 
in  the  Podesta's  presence,  who  said  '  His  heart  is  blinded,  and  he 
is  a  man  of  malice,  who  knoweth  not  the  things  of  God.     Let  us 


192  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

therefore  give  him  no  occasion  of  ill-doing,  for  he  loved  cursing, 
and  it  shall  come  unto  him  :  and  he  would  not  have  blessing, 
and  it  shall  be  far  from  him.'  And  he  said,  '  How  seemeth  it 
to  you,  my  Brethren  ?  Say  I  well  ?  '  Then  1  answered  and 
said,  *  You  have  spoken  wisely  and  well,  my  Lord.'  Then  the 
Podesta  sent  heralds  throughout  the  city  of  Parma,  forbidding 
under  the  heaviest  penalties  lest  any  man  of  Parma  should  dare 
to  cross  the  Po  :  so  their  purpose  ceased.  And  this  was  the  year 
wherein  that  age  should  have  begun  which  was  foretold  by  Abbot 
Joachim,  who  divideth  the  world  into  three  states  :  and  they  say 
that  this  last  state  of  the  world  began  with  these  Flagellants  of 
the  year  1260,  who  cried  with  God's  words  and  not  with  men's." 
Manfred  also  kept  the  Flagellants  out  of  his  states  by  the  threat 
of  martyrdom,  for  he,  like  Pallavicino,  was  known  to  be  as  good 
as  his  word  in  these  matters,  and  to  wage  perpetual  war  against 
religious  enthusiasms  which  were  only  too  likely  to  cause 
political  complications  in  his  dominions.  This  leads  the  Domini- 
can chronicler  Pipinus  to  lament  the  premature  end  of  the 
movement  in  Italy  :  though  it  was  to  some  extent  kept  up 
by  formally  constituted  Gilds  of  Penitents  in  most  of  the  cities. 
But  elsewhere  the  revival  degenerated  into  such  superstitions 
and  disorders  as  could  be  only  too  sui-ely  anticipated  from  such 
descriptions  as  Varaglne  and  Pipinus  himself  give  us  in  their 
chronicles.  The  Pope  had  never  approved  the  movement,  which 
was  plainly  an  attempt  of  the  common  folk  to  come  to  God 
without  human  mediation  ;  and  the  clergy  of  Germany  and 
Poland  were  compelled  to  suppress  it  as  mercilessly  as  the  Italian 
tyrants.  The  same  superstition  broke  out  with  greater  violence 
after  the  Great  Plague  of  1349,  and  again  on  several  other 
occasions.  Gerson  wrote  a  treatise  against  it  in  1417,  recalling 
how  often  the  movement  had  already  been  condemned  by  the 
authorities,  and  partly  explaining  its  recrudescence  by  the  fav- 
ourite medieval  quotation  from  Ecclesiastes  ( Vulg.)  "  The  number 
of  fools  is  infinite."^ 

The  next  important  dates  of  which  we  are  sure  in  Salimbene's 
biography  find  him  at  Ravenna  :  he  was  therein  1264  and  1268, 
and  it  is  very  likely  that  the  five  years'  residence  of  which  he 
speaks  was  continuous,  except  for  short  excursions  to  neighbouring 
towns.  Our  chronicler  looked  back  very  fondly  to  those  five 
years  at  Ravenna.  Everything  in  the  old  Imperial  city  appealed 
to  him.  The  district  was  at  peace,  so  far  as  there  could  be  peace 
in  13th  century  Italy,  and  here  were  old  families  to  associate 
with,  and  old  books  to  read.  He  enjoyed,  too,  the  antiquarian 
atmosphere  of  the  city  :  it  did  his  heart  good  to  see  the  desecrated 


Settling  Down.  i  93 

tomb  of  the  unorthodox  Theodoric,  and  to  think  that  (209)  "  the 
blessed  Pope  Gregory,  when  he  came  hither,  caused  his  bones 
to  be  torn  from  the  tomb  of  porphyry,  (which  is  shown  empty 
unto  this  day,)  and  thrown  upon  the  dunghill  and  into  the 
cesspool ; "  though  it  is  almost  certain  that  some  other  profane 
hand  did  what  he  ascribes  here  to  the  great  Pope.  Here 
also  he  could  admire  the  tomb  of  his  heroine  the  Empress 
Galla  Placidia,  with  other  similar  monuments  of  the  earliest 
Christian  art :  and  he  was  naturally  chosen  as  cicerone  when  a 
distinguished  visitor  came  to  see  the  churches  of  Ravenna 
(169),  and  earn  the  rich  indulgences  to  be  gained  there.  Last, 
but  not  least,  Ravenna  was  a  city  of  good  living.  As  the 
Podesta  boasted  one  day  to  Salimbene  (482)  "  We  have  such 
plenty  of  victuals  here  that  he  would  be  a  fool  who  should  seek 
for  more :  for  a  good  bowl  of  salt,  full  and  heaped  up,  may  be 
had  here  for  a  poor  penny ;  and  for  the  same  price  a  man  may 
buy  twelve  clean  boiled  eggs  at  a  tavern  ;  I  can  buy  whensoever 
I  will  an  excellent  fat  wild-duck  for  four  pence  in  the  proper 
season  ;  and  I  have  seen  times  when,  if  a  man  would  pluck 
ten  ducks,  he  might  keep  the  half  of  them  for  himself."  Here 
he  Hved  out  of  reach  of  actual  war,  hearing  only  the  distant 
echoes  of  those  battles  in  the  South  which  decided  the  fate  of 
Frederick's  last  descendants.  One  Christmastide,  on  his  way 
to  preach  at  San  Procolo  near  Faenza,  he  met  the  great  French 
host  passing  southwards  to  conquer  Manfred  at  Benevento. 
"  And  a  great  miracle  then  befel :  for  in  that  year  wherein  they 
came  was  neither  cold  nor  frost  nor  ice  nor  snow  nor  mire  nor 
rain  ;  but  the  roads  were  most  fair,  easy,  and  smooth,  as  though 
it  had  been  the  month  of  May.  Which  was  the  Lord's  doing, 
for  that  they  came  to  succour  the  Church  and  to  exterminate 
that  accursed  Manfred,  whose  iniquities  well  deserved  such  a 
fate  :  for  they  were  many  indeed.*  For  he  had  slain,  as  was 
said,  his  brother  Conrad,  who  himself  had  slain  his  own  brother 
Charles,  born  at  Ravenna  of  the  Emperor's  English  wife." 
(470)  _ 

Again,  he  remembers  Conradin's  defeat  in  1268  by  a  strange 
natural  phenomenon  in  which  he  doubtless  saw  an  omen  of  that 
event.  (480)  "  In  that  year  and  at  that  same  season,  there 
passed  so  great  a  number  of  those  birds  which  destroy  the 
grapes  in  the  vineyards  and  are  called  in  the  vulgar  tongue 
turili,  [thrushes]  that  every  evening  between  supper-time  and 
twilight  the  open  sky  could  scarce  be  seen.     And  at  times  there 

*  "  Orribil  furon  li  peccati  miei."    Purg.  iii.  121 


194  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

were  two  or  three  storeys  of  them  one  over  another,  and  they 
stretched  three  or  four  miles,  and  after  a  brief  space  other  birds  of 
the  same  sort  would  take  their  place,  flying  and  chattering  and 
murmuring,  and  as  it  were,  complaining.  And  so  they  did  every 
evening  for  many  days,  coming  down  from  the  mountains  to  the 
valleys  and  filling  the  whole  air.  And  1  with  the  other  Brethren 
was  wont  to  go  out  and  stand  in  the  open  air  every  evening  to  see 
and  contemplate  and  marvel  at  them  :  and  yet  I  was  not  in  the 
open  air,  for  they  covered  the  whole  sky.  I  say  in  truth  that  if 
I  had  not  seen  them,  1  could  not  have  believed  any  who  should 
have  told  me  thereof."  Salimbene's  church  at  Ravenna  was  of 
course  that  in  which  Dante's  bones  were  first  laid,  and  outside 
which  stands  his  present  tomb :  and  the  open  air  into  which  the 
Friars  came  out  every  evening  to  watch  these  portents  in  the  sky 
would  have  been  practically  the  garden  of  the  present  Hotel 
Byron. 

The  one  piece  of  fighting  which  took  place  even  in  the  peaceful 
district  of  Ravenna  was,  according  to  our  friar's  account,  simply 
owing  to  the  greed  of  the  Venetians,  whom  he  accuses  of  methods 
not  unknown  to  modern  diplomacy.  (481).  They  had  "taken 
a  fifty-years'  lease "  of  a  castle  commanding  the  mouth  of 
the  Ravenna  canal ;  and  now,  at  the  very  end  of  their  50  years, 
instead  of  preparing  to  quit,  they  were  rebuilding  the  wooden 
bulwarks  of  their  fortress  in  stone.  Again,  they  entirely 
neglected  the  principle  of  the  Open  Door  ;  "  so  utterly  closing 
this  canal  to  the  Lombards,  that  they  can  draw  no  supplies  from 
Romagna  or  the  Mark  of  Ancona  :  yet,  but  for  this  hindrance 
of  the  Venetians,  they  might  draw  therefrom  corn  and  wine  and 
oil,  fish  and  flesh  and  salt  and  pigs,  and  all  good  things  to  sustain 
man's  life."  Moreover,  their  trade  methods  were  so  astute,  and 
their  Visdomini  (consuls)  were  such  active  political  agents,  that 
the  Bolognese  found  themselves  outbought  and  outsold  even  in 
their  own  districts,  and  were  compelled  in  self-defence  to  build  a 
fortress  at  Primario,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Po,  which  might  keep 
the  Venetian  fortress  in  check.  (480)  "  And  the  Venetians 
came  with  a  great  fleet  and  all  siege-engines  and  battered  the 
tower  with  mangonels  and  catapults,  and  the  men  of  Bologna 
defended  their  castle  manfully,  and  the  Venetians  retired.  And 
the  men  of  Bologna  remained  there,  as  I  think,  some  2  or  3  years 
and  300  or  500  of  them  died  by  reason  of  the  unwholesomeness 
of  the  sea-air,  and  of  the  multitude  of  fleas  and  gnats  and  flies 
and  gad-flies.  And  Brother  Peregrino  di  Polesmo  of  Bologna,  of 
the  Order  of  Friars  Minor,  went  and  made  peace  between  the 
Bolognese  and  the  Venetians,  and  the  men  of  Bologna  destroyed 


Settling  Down.  195 

the  castle  which  they  had  made  and  departed  thence,  and  gave 
much  wood  of  the  said  castle  to  the  Friars  Minor  of  Ravenna. 
The  Venetians  are  greedy  men  and  stubborn  and  outrageous, 
and  they  would  gladly  subdue  the  whole  world  to  themselves 
if  they  could  ;  and  they  treat  boorishly  the  merchants  who  go 
to  them,  both  by  selling  dear,  and  by  taking  tolls  in  divers  places 
of  their  district  from  the  same  persons  at  the  same  time.  And 
if  any  merchant  carries  his  goods  thither  for  sale  he  may  not 
bring  them  back  with  him  :  nay,  but  he  must  needs  sell  them 
there,  will-he  nill-he.  And  if  by  mishap  of  the  sea  any  ship 
other  than  their  own  is  driven  to  them  with  its  merchandise, 
it  may  not  depart  thence  except  it  have  first  sold  all  its  cargo  : 
for  the  Venetians  say  that  this  ship  has  been  driven  to  them  by 
God's  will,  which  no  man  may  gainsay."  He  had  not  only  little 
sympathy  with  Venetian  commercial  methods,  but  he  also 
disliked  the  city  for  its  aloofness  from  the  Guelf  cause,  and  was 
ready  to  believe  that  the  disastrous  floods  which  ravaged  Venice 
in  1284  were  due  to  the  Papal  excommunication  for  its  lukewarm- 
ness  in  the  cause  of  Charles  of  Anjou.  He  even  shows  imperfect 
sympathy  with  that  ancient  pageant  which  we  especially  associate 
with  the  name  of  Venice, — the  Espousal  of  the  Adriatic — which 
he  traces  "  partly  to  a  certain  idolatrous  custom,  whereby  the 
Venetians  sacrifice  to  Neptune." 

It  seems  only  fitting,  however,  that  his  memories  of  Ravenna 
should  to  us  be  redolent  of  the  Commedia,  though  he  left  the 
city  while  Dante  was  still  almost  in  the  nursery.  The  Middle 
Ages  were  rich  in  pretenders,  and  Salimbene  alludes  briefly  to 
many  of  these  :  —a  false  Count  of  Flanders,  who  was  finally 
betrayed  by  his  inability  to  remember  at  whose  hands  he  had 
received  knighthood  :  a  false  Frederick  II  :  a  whole  crop  of 
false  Manfreds,  whom  Charles  of  Anjou  destroyed  one  after 
another.  (174  ;  472).  But  by  far  the  most  picturesque  of 
these  is  a  story  of  the  famous  "  Casa  Traversara,"  once  so  rich 
in  noble  lords  and  ladies,  in  courtesy  and  in  love,  of  which  Dante 
laments  the  extinction.  (Purff.  xiv.  107).  Salimbene  tells  us  of 
Paolo  Traversario  and  his  adversary  Anastagio,  who  are  promi- 
nent in  that  strange  tale  of  imrequited  passion  and  repentance 
which  Dryden  borrowed  from  Boccaccio'  and  entitled  "  Theodore 
and  Honoria  "  :  while  the  former  is  also  commemorated  as  "  the 
noblest  man  of  all  Romagna  "  in  the  35th  story  of  the  still  older 
"  Novellino."  He  tells  us  how  all  the  four  noblest  houses  of 
Ravenna  were  now  extinct ;  of  which  the  last  and  greatest  was 
this  of  the  Traversari.  After  Paolo's  death,  the  house  was 
represented  by  a  single  girl  Traversaria,  bom  out  of  wedlock, 


196  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

whom  Innocent  IV  legitimated  and  married  to  his  kinsman  Tom- 
maso  Fogliani.  Their  onlj  son,  however,  died  in  earlj  youth, 
and  the  vast  possessions  of  the  house  passed  for  a  Avhile  to  Lord 
Matteo  Fogliani.  (166)  "But  in  process  of  time  one  Guliel- 
motto  of  Apulia  came  with  a  handmaid  named  Paschetta  ;  but 
he  gave  her  the  name  of  Ayca,  saying  that  she  was  his  wife, 
and  daughter  to  the  Lord  Paolo  Traversario  :  for  in  truth  the 
Emperor  Frederick  had  taken  Paolo's  daughter  Ayca  and  sent 
her  as  a  hostage  to  Apulia.  Afterwards,  however,  when  the 
Emperor  waxed  wroth  against  the  girl's  father,  he  caused  her  to 
be  cast  into  a  burning  fiery  furnace ;  and  so  she  gave  up  her 
soul  to  God.  For  a  certain  Friar  Minor,  Ubaldino  by  name, 
who  dwelt  in  Apulia,  and  was  a  noble  of  Ravenna,  and 
brother  to  the  Lord  Segnorelli,  was  present  and  heard  her  con- 
fession. And  she  was  a  most  fair  lady — and  no  wonder,  for  she 
had  a  most  comely  father.  But  this  Paschetta,  who  gave  her- 
self out  as  Ayca,  was  foul  and  deformed,  and  beyond  measure 
miserly  and  avaricious ;  for  I  have  spoken  with  her  in  the  city 
of  Ravenna,  and  seen  her  a  hundred  times.  She  had  learnt 
from  her  mistress  her  father's  manners,  and  the  circumstances  of 
the  city  of  Ravenna :  moreover,  a  certain  man  of  Ravenna, 
whom  I  knew  well,  the  Lord  Ugo  de'  Barci,  went  oft-times  to 
Apulia,  and  of  his  malice  instructed  her  in  these  things,  hoping 
for  a  reward  if  she  were  exalted.  So  Guliel motto  came  with  his 
wife  to  Ravenna,  and  the  men  of  the  city  rejoiced  to  hear  there- 
of and  went  out  gladly  to  meet  them.  I  also  went  out  with  a 
friar,  my  comrade,  to  without  the  gate  of  San  Lorenzo,  and 
stood  waiting  on  the  river-bridge  to  see  what  this  might  be. 
And  as  I  waited,  a  certain  youth  came  running,  who  said  to  me, 
'  And  wherefore  have  not  the  other  Brethren  come  ?  In  truth, 
if  the  Pope  with  his  Cardinals  were  in  Ravenna,  he  should 
hasten  to  behold  this  rejoicing.'  Hearing  this  I  beheld  him,  and 
smiled,  saying,  '  Blessed  be  thou,  my  son ;  thou  hast  spoken 
well.'  Now  when  they  had  entered  Ravenna,  they  went  forth- 
with to  the  church  of  San  Vitale,  to  visit  the  grave  of  Paolo 
Traversario.  When  therefore  Paschetta  stood  face  to  face  with 
his  sepulchre,  she  raised  her  voice  and  began  to  weep,  as  though 
she  mourned  for  her  father.  And  then  she  began  to  feign  her- 
self sick,  for  loathing  that  Traversaria  [the  illegitimatel  should 
be  buried  in  the  sepulchre  of  her  father :  and  after  that  they 
went  to  the  lodgings  ordained  for  them.  All  this  was  reported  to 
me  by  one  who  saw  with  his  own  eyes,  my  friend  Dom  Giovanni, 
monk  and  sacristan  of  San  Vitale.  And  on  the  morrow  Guliel- 
motto  spoke  in  the  city  Council,  for  he  was  a  comely  knight,  and 


Settling  Down.  197 

a  great  orator.  And  when  he  had  ended  his  speech  in  open 
Council,  the  citizens  promised  and  offered  him  more  than  he  him- 
self had  asked ;  for  they  rejoiced  at  this  revival  of  the  Lord 
Paolo's  house.  The  Lord  Philip  likewise,  Archbishop  of  Rav- 
enna, was  consenting  thereto.  So  Gulielmotto  had  these  posses- 
sions and  lands,  as  well  as  ever  the  Lord  Paolo  himself  had 
possessed  them  ;  and  he  abounded  in  monej  and  goods,  and  built 
courts  and  mansions  and  walls  and  palaces,  and  prospered  manj 
years,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes.  Yet  after  this  he  rose  up 
against  the  Church  party,  and  was  driven  forth  from  Ravenna  : 
and  all  his  palaces  and  buildings  were  torn  down.  Moreover, 
that  woman  his  wife,  who  feigned  herself  to  be  Ayca,  had  no  son 
by  him :  yet  she  would  send  and  fetch  boys  of  five  and  seven 
years  old  from  Apulia,  whom  she  said  to  be  her  children.  At 
length  one  of  those  children  died  :  and  she  buried  him  in  the 
sepulchre  of  the  Lord  Paolo,  bursting  forth  into  bitter  lamenta- 
tion and  crying,  *  O  glories  of  Lord  Paolo,  where  must  1  leave 
you  !  O  glories  of  Lord  Paolo,  where  must  I  leave  you  !  0 
glories  of  Lord  Paolo,  where  must  I  leave  you  ! '  At  length, 
amid  the  multitude  of  wars,  she  ended  her  days  at  Forli  :  and 
Gulielmotto  returned  to  Apulia,  naked  and  stripped  of  his 
possessions." 

These  years  at  and  near  Ravenna  brought  Salimbene  into 
close  contact  with  two  more  of  the  most  striking  figures  in  the 
Commedia — Guido  da  Montefeltro  and  Tebaldello.  He  was 
living  both  at  Forli  and  at  Faenza  when  those  cities  were 
besieged  by  the  Pope's  Bolognese  allies,  and  when  the  siege  of 
Faenza  was  raised  by  Guido's  brilliant  victory  at  San  Procolo, 
2^  miles  from  the  city.  He  describes  the  terrible  slaughter  of 
the  Bolognese  knights :  and  how  the  four  thousand  common 
folk,  huddled  helplessly  round  their  carroccio,  presently 
surrendered  in  a  body.  Many  of  these  prisoners,  with  their 
hands  bound,  were  butchered  in  cold  blood  :  the  rest  were  brought 
in  triumph  to  prison  at  Faenza.  Ricobaldo,  writing  at  Ferrara 
more  than  20  years  after  the  event,  speaks  with  bated  breath  of 
this  massacre,  and  breaks  off  with  "  But  I  must  say  no  more, 
lest  even  now  I  awaken  men's  half-slumbering  hate."*  The 
battle  took  place  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  "  and 
therefore  "  says  Salimbene  "  the  Bolognese  cannot  bear  to  hear 
the  Saint's  name  mentioned  in  their  city."  (397)  At  Bologna 
and  Reggio  the  dead  knights  lay  at  the  church  doors,  each  in  his 
own  coffin,  while  the  men  of  Faenza  swarmed  out  and  carried  to 
their  houses  the  plunder  of  that  vast  camp  which  only  a  day 
before  had  threatened  the  very  existence  of  their  city.     (490) 


198  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Six  years  later,  Guido  took  Sinigaglia  and  put  1,500  Guelfs  (it 
was  said)  to  the  sword  (506)  ;  but  next  year  saw  the  election  of 
Martin  IV,  who  soon  showed  himself  desperately  in  earnest  with 
the  war,  and  who  spent  upon  it  the  vast  hoards  which  his  prede- 
cessors had  collected  for  the  next  Crusade  in  the  East.  So,  al- 
though the  men  of  Forli  held  out  bravely,  yet  (516)  "  every  year 
Pope  Martin  IV  sent  against  them  a  mighty  army  of  French  and 
of  divers  other  nations,  who  destroyed  their  vines  and  corn  and 
fruit-trees,  with  their  olives  and  figs,  almonds  and  fair  pome- 
granates, houses  and  cattle,  casks  and  vats,  and  all  that  pertaineth 
to  country-folk.  And  the  Pope  spent  in  these  years  many 
thousands  of  florins,  nay,  many  pack-loads  of  gold  pieces.  So 
when  the  city  had  come  to  the  obedience  of  the  Church,  all  the 
moats  were  filled  in  and  the  gates  razed,  and  houses  and  palaces 
torn  down,  and  the  chief  buildings  shattered  to  pieces :  and 
the  chief  men  of  that  city  went  out  and  fled  to  divers  hiding- 
places,  that  they  might  give  way  to  wrath.  But  Count  Guido  da 
Montef  eltro,  who  had  been  their  captain  and  that  of  the  Imperial 
party,  made  peace  with  the  Church,  and  was  banished  for  a  while 
to  Chioggia,  after  which  he  was  sent  to  Astiin  Lombardy,  where 
he  dwelt  in  great  honour,  since  all  loved  him  for  his  former 
probity,  and  frequent  victories,  and  for  his  present  wise  and 
humble  obedience  to  the  Church.  Moreover  he  was  noble  and 
full  of  sense  and  discreet  and  well-mannered,  liberal  and  courteous 
and  generous ;  a  doughty  knight  and  of  great  courage  and  skill 
in  war.  He  loved  the  Order  of  St.  Francis,  not  only  because  he 
had  kinsfolk  therein,  but  also  that  the  blessed  Francis  had 
delivered  him  from  many  perils,  and  from  the  dungeon  and 
chains  of  the  Lord  Malatesta  " — for,  as  Salimbene  had  pointed 
out  before,  his  great  victory  was  won  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Anthony 
of  Padua,  and  the  siege  of  Faenza  was  raised  on  St.  Francis's 
day.  "  Yet  for  all  that  he  was  oft-times  grievously  offended  by 
certain  fools  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor.  In  the  city  of  Asti 
he  had  a  decent  company  and  household,  for  many  ceased  not  to 
lend  him  a  helping  hand."  These  remarks  are  all  the  more 
interesting  for  having  been  written  before  Guido  had  become  a 
Franciscan  and  given  his  fatal  counsel  to  Boniface  VIII. 

How  diflficult  it  was  for  him  to  refuse  his  services  to  the  Pope, 
and  how  thoroughly  men  of  Religion  were  expected  to  put  even 
the  least  religious  of  their  worldly  talents  at  the  service  of  their 
new  Brethren,  is  shown  not  only  by  Salimbene's  friar  who  was 
compelled  to  build  siege  engines  (as  will  be  seen  later  on,)  but 
also  by  the  two  following  anecdotes  from  Cardinal  Jacques  de 
Vitry's  sermons.*     "  I  have  heard  of  a  noble  knight  who  left  all 


Settling  Down.  19^ 

liis  great  possessions  and  became  a  monk,  that  he  might  serve  God 
in  peace  and  humility.  But  the  Abbot,  seeing  that  in  the  World 
he  had  been  a  man  of  many  wiles,  sent  him  to  the  fair  to  sell  the 
aged  asses  of  the  convent  and  buy  younger  beasts.  The  nobleman 
loved  not  the  task,  but  bent  his  will  to  obey.  So  when  the  buyers 
asked  whether  these  asses  were  good  and  young,  he  deigned  not 
to  dissemble,  but  answered,  '  Think  ye  that  our  convent  is  come 
to  such  poverty  as  to  sell  young  asses  that  might  be  profitable 
to  the  house  ? '  When  again  men  asked  why  they  had  so  little 
hair  on  their  tails,  he  replied, '  Because  they  fall  oftentimes  under 
their  burdens ;  wherefore,  since  we  raise  them  again  by  their 
tails,  these  have  lost  their  hair.'^  So  when  he  came  home  to 
the  cloister  without  having  sold  a  single  beast,  then  a  lay-brother 
who  had  gone  with  him  accused  him  before  the  Chapter.  So 
the  abbot  and  monks,  in  white-hot  wrath  against  him,  set  about 
beating  him  with  stripes  as  for  a  grievous  fault.  He  therefore 
said  to  them  :  '  I  left  behind  in  the  World  a  multitude  of  asses 
and  great  possessions  :  therefore  1  was  unwilling  to  lie  for  the 
sake  of  your  asses,  and  to  harm  mine  own  soul  by  deceiving  my 
neighbours.'  So  thenceforward  they  never  sent  him  forth  on 
worldly  business."  The  other  story  is  of  a  great  advocate  who 
for  the  same  reason  lost  his  causes  when  he  had  become  a  monk 
and  was  sent  to  plead  for  the  convent.  Both  tales  appear 
frequently  in  Preachers'  manuals,  and  evidently  appealed  vividly 
to  the  medieval  mind. 

Salimbene  twice  mentions  the  double  betrayal  of  Faenza  by 
Tebaldello,  whom  Dante  plunges  for  that  reason  into  the  hell 
of  ice  i^Inf.  xii,  123.),  and  of  whom  our  friar  says  (505-6) 
"  He  was  named  Tebaldello  de'  Zambrasi,  a  great  and  powerful 
noble  of  the  aforesaid  city  of  Faenza  ;  he  was  base-born,  but  his 
brother  Zambrasino,  of  the  Order  of  Frati  Godenti,  had  given 
him  the  half  of  his  father's  inheritance,  for  that  those  two 
brethren  only  were  left  of  the  family,  and  there  was  wealth 
enough  for  two  :  therefore  his  brother  gave  him  an  equal  share 
of  the  inheritance  and  made  him  a  nobleman.  So  this  Tebaldello 
(whom  I  knew  and  have  seen  a  hundred  times,  and  who  was  a 
man  of  war,  like  a  second  Jephthah)  betrayed  his  city  of  Faenza 
into  the  hands  of  the  Bolognese.  At  that  season  the  half  of  the 
citizens  of  Faenza  were  gone  with  the  banished  party  of  Bologna 
to  lay  siege  to  a  certain  town ;  so  that  Tebaldello  had  watched 
for  a  fit  time  for  his  evil  deed.  [Then  Pope  Martin]  sent  his  army 
oft-times  against  Forli,  and  the  Church  party  had  the  under  hand, 
for  they  were  conquered  and  taken  and  slain  and  put  to  flight: 
among  whom  fell  Tebaldello  also,  who  had  twice  betrayed  his 


200  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

own  city  of  Faenza  ;  for  he  was  drowned  in  the  moat  of  the  city 
of  Forli  and  smothered  there  together  with  his  charger." 

Such,  then,  were  the  events  which  Salimbene  constantly  saw 
and  heard  during  the  few  remaining  years  which  he  spent  in 
Romagna  after  that  quiet  life  in  Bavenna.  In  his  terrible 
description  of  the  devastation  wrought  by  civil  wars,  his  deepest 
pity  is  for  this  province  of  Romagna  :  and,  in  spite  of  all  Martin 
IV 's  favours  towards  his  own  Order,  the  good  friar  never  forgave 
this  waste  of  crusade-money  and  this  drenching  of  Italian  soil 
with  Christian  blood. 

His  old  age,  as  the  Chronicle  tells  us  plainly,  was  spent  in  his 
native  province  of  Emilia — mainly  at  Reggio  and  Montefalcone, 
within  easy  reach  of  his  early  home  at  Parma.  He  may  have 
settled  in  Reggio  as  early  as  the  spring  of  1281  :  he  was  certainly 
there  in  August  1283  (526)  :  and  the  minuteness  with  which  he 
chronicles  the  occurrences  of  1282  in  that  district  is  a  strong 
proof  that  he  was  then  living  there.  The  last  event  referred  to 
is  a  Papal  Bull  of  May  14,  1288,  and  the  reference  does  not 
imply  that  this  was  very  recent  (625) :  so  that  there  is  no  reason 
to  quarrel  with  Gebhart's  guess  that  he  died  in  1289,  or  Cledat's 
that  it  was  he  himself  whose  trembling  hand  scratched  out  the 
unflattering  notices  of  Obizzo  when  that  tyrant  became  master  of 
Reggio  in  1290. 

The  events  of  these  last  years  have  a  very  special  interest  for 
us.  Salimbene  was  of  the  same  generation  as  Dante's  father ; 
and  all  that  he  has  told  us  hitherto  is  what  the  poet  might  have 
heard  from  his  parents  at  his  own  fireside.  But  now  we  come 
to  Dante's  own  age  ;  for  Salimbene  came  to  Reggio  a  little  before 
the  first  salutation  of  Beatrice,  and  died  about  the  time  when 
Dante  showed  his  real  manhood  at  the  battle  of  Campaldino. 
Life  in  the  towns  of  Emilia  was  very  like  that  in  adjoining 
Tuscany :  and  what  the  friar  tells  us  of  his  own  experiences  is 
practically  what  passed  under  the  poet's  eyes  from  his  17th  to 
his  25th  year. 


Chapter  XVII. 
Taking  in  Sail. 

SO  our  busy  friend  rested  at  last  from  his  wanderings,  and 
came  to  end  his  days  in  the  convents  of  his  native  province 
— a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  if  only  men  could  have 
ceased  for  awhile  from  war.  "  This  is  the  fairest  spot  in  the 
world,"  writes  the  Continuator  of  Ricobaldi's  Chronicle  :  "  con- 
veniently hilly,  yet  with  fruitful  plains  and  lakes  for  fish  ;  and 
therein  dwell  men  of  kingly  heart."^  Parma  and  Reggio  and 
Modena  are  sleepy  enough  nowadays  ;  very  restful  to  the  weary 
traveller,  with  their  Apennines  hard  by,  and  far  off  the  Alps  of 
Trent  and  Verona  looming  in  ghostly  orange  on  the  evening 
horizon,  high  above  that  endless  stretch  of  purple  plain.  But  in 
Salimbene's  days  this  sleepy  world  was  like  a  swarming  bee- 
hive, upon  which  the  good  old  friar  looked  down  as  Lucretius' 
philosopher  contemplated  the  troubled  sea  of  human  error  and 
pain. 

In  those  harder  times  a  man  was  already  aged  at  fifty  :  but 
in  1282  Salimbene  was  in  his  61st  year,  and  had  at  least  six  more 
to  live.  This  year  1282  passed  comparatively  peacefully  for  the 
cities  in  which  he  was  most  interested.  His  native  Parma  was 
now  reconciled  again  to  the  Church,  after  an  interdict  of  three 
years.  For  in  1279  the  Dominicans  had  burned  for  heresy,  first 
a  noble  lady  of  the  city,  and  then  an  innkeeper's  wife,  who  had 
once  been  her  maidservant  (501).  On  this,  "certain  fools" 
attacked  the  Dominican  convent  and  wounded  some  of  the 
Brethren  (507) ;  or,  as  the  contemporary  Chronicler  of  Parma 
tells  us  with  more  detail  "  certain  evil  men,  by  suggestion  of 
the  Devil,  ran  to  the  convent  and  entered  it  by  force  and 
despoiled  it,  smiting  and  wounding  many  of  the  Brethren,  and 
killing  one  Brother  Jacopo  de'  Ferrari,  who  was  an  aged  man 
and  (as  was  reported)  a  virgin  of  his  body  ;  who  was  also  blind 
of  his  eyes,  and  had  lived  forty  years  and  more  in  the  Order." 
Yet,  in  spite  of  her  recent  prosperity,  Parma  was  not  quite  free 
from  war.     Her  citizens  made  a  petty  raid  into   neighbouring 


202  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

territory,  and  destroyed  some  crops :  again,  they  sent  a  force 
to  garrison  friendly  Cremona  while  the  Cremonese  went  to  fight 
against  the  Ghibellines  in  Lombardy.  Within  the  city  itself, 
this  was  a  gay  year,  in  spite  of  the  pulling  down  of  certain  rebels' 
houses  and  of  a  sudden  scare  in  the  summer,  when  "  thunderclaps 
were  heard  at  nightfall  so  horrible  and  so  startling  that  they 
seemed  almost  visible  and  palpable,  and  many  fearful  folk  fell  to 
the  ground"  (511).  There  were  many  worldly  pageants,  which 
the  good  friar  describes  in  the  language  of  keen  enjoyment, 
but  with  extreme  brevity.  This  is  all  the  more  disappointing 
because  even  a  few  details,  such  as  might  so  naturally  have  come 
from  the  pen  of  an  observant  man  writing  for  his  favourite 
niece,  would  have  made  us  realize  even  more  vividly  Villani's 
description  of  the  "  noble  and  rich  company,  clad  all  in  white, 
and  with  a  Lord  of  Love  at  its  head,"  which  made  Florence  so 
gay  for  nearly  two  months  of  the  next  year  1283,  and  which  it 
is  so  natural  to  connect  with  the  occasion,  in  that  same  year, 
when  Dante  first  exchanged  speech  with  his  Beatrice,  "  dressed 
all  in  pure  white."^  At  Parma,  two  brothers  of  the  great  Rossi 
family  were  knighted,  one  of  them  resigning  his  canonry  for  the 
occasion,  and  the  feastings  lasted  nearly  a  month.  Again,  there 
were  other  knightings  at  Reggio,  and  most  noble  festivities  at 
Ferrara,  where  Azzo  of  Este  was  knighted  and  wedded  to  a  niece 
of  Pope  Nicholas  III.  At  Reggio,  rival  factions  were  reconciled 
by  the  mediation  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and  "  many  men  and 
women,  youths  and  maidens,"  were  present  at  the  solemn  oath 
of  reconciliation  in  the  convent.  Outside  this  narrow  circle, 
however,  the  political  horizon  was  dark  enough.  The  Sicilians 
got  rid  of  their  French  masters  by  the  Sicilian  Vespers  :  which 
Salimbene  recounts  with  the  brevity  usual  to  him  when  he  writes 
at  second  hand  of  distant  events.  "  In  the  city  of  Palermo  they 
slew  all  the  French  of  both  sexes,  dashing  their  little  ones  against 
the  stones,  and  ripping  up  the  women  that  were  with  child  :  but 
the  men  of  Messina  treated  them  less  cruelly,  stripping  them  of 
their  arms  and  their  goods  and  sending  them  back  to  their  master 
Charles  "  (508).  The  Vespers  kindled  a  long  and  bloody  war 
between  Charles  of  Anjou  and  Peter  of  Aragon.  Another  war, 
equally  long  and  bloody,  was  being  fought  out  with  redoubled 
energy  by  Martin  IV,  the  French  Pope  whom  Charles  of  Anjou 
had  lately  forced  upon  Christendom  by  kidnapping  the  dissentient 
Cardinals  and  intimidating  the  rest.  Salimbene,  staunch  Church- 
man as  he  is,  speaks  very  plainly  about  these  papal  wars,  as  will 
presently  be  seen.  This  greed  for  fresh  territory  was  all  the 
more  blameworthy  because  even  their  earliest  territorial  posses- 


Taking  in  Sail.  203 

sions  kept  them  constantly  involved  in  political  complications  and 
their  resultant  wars.  "  The  men  of  Perugia  made  ready  to  go 
and  waste  the  lands  of  Foligno,  and  the  Pope  sent  word  that  they 
should  utterly  desist,  on  pain  of  excommunication,  since  Foligno 
was  of  the  garden  of  St.  Peter.  Yet  the  Perugians  turned  not 
aside  from  their  purpose,  but  went  and  ravaged  the  whole 
Bishopric  of  Foligno  even  to  the  ditches  of  the  city.  So  they 
were  excommunicated ;  wherefore  in  their  wrath  they  made  a 
Pope  and  Cardinals  of  straw,  and  dragged  them  outrageously 
through  the  whole  city :  after  which  they  dragged  them  to  the 
summit  of  a  hill,  where  they  burned  the  Pope  in  robes  of  scarlet, 
and  his  Cardinals  with  him ;  saying,  '  this  is  such  a  Cardinal, 
and  this  is  such  another.'  And  note  that  the  Perugians  thought 
to  do  a  good  deed  in  fighting  against  Foligno  and  ravaging  the 
lands ;  for  in  former  times  there  was  much  war  between  the  two 
cities,  and  the  men  of  Foligno  raged  so  cruelly  against  the  Per- 
ugians, on  whom  God  sent  at  the  same  time  such  confusion,  that 
one  old  woman  of  Foligno  drove  10  Perugians  to  prison  with  a 
rod  of  reed :  and  other  women  did  likewise ;  for  the  Perugians 
had  no  heart  to  resist  them."  (510). 

1283  was  a  fairly  quiet  year  too:  there  was  a  great  cattle- 
plague,  but  the  mortality  did  not  spread  among  men  until  the 
year  following.  At  Parma  men  built  rapidly,  almost  feverishly, 
in  those  days  of  prosperity  :  the  Friars  Minor  built  a  handsome 
refectory,  the  city  walls  and  Baptistery  rose  rapidly :  the 
Cathedral  was  adorned  with  its  "  porch-pillars  on  the  lion  rest- 
ing :  "  a  great  stone  bridge  was  built,  and  three  fair  new  streets 
lined  with  houses  and  palaces ;  also  a  governor's  palace  and  a 
canal — "  but  this  canal  was  little  worth  :  I  myself  could  have 
planned  a  better  canal  for  the  service  of  Parma  if  I  were  lord  of 
the  city."  Here  a  reader  of  the  14th  or  15th  century,  provoked 
at  Salimbene's  self-sufficiency,  has  scribbled  on  the  margin  of 
the  MS.  "note  the  bestial  folly  of  this  fellow  !  "     (519). 

At  Reggio,  the  little  cloud  of  last  year,  no  bigger  than  a 
man's  hand,  was  coming  up  dark  on  the  horizon.  (515).  "The 
Podesta  was  too  remiss,  and  many  manslaughters  and  crimes 
were  done  in  the  district,  so  that  in  one  house  in  the  city  a  man's 
enemies  entered  by  a  ladder  and  slew  him  in  his  bed.  This 
Podesta  was  succeeded  next  year  by  the  Lord  Bernabo  del 
Palastrelli  of  Piacenza,  who  spared  none,  and  destroyed  many 
evildoers  and  robbers  in  his  days.  Many  he  slew  and  caused  to 
be  slain  in  his  government ;  and  therefore,  because  he  kept 
justice  well,  the  men  of  Reggio  said  that  he  was  the  destroyer  of 
their  city.     But  his  predecessor  was  rather  their  destroyer,  who 


204  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

was  too  remiss  and  negligent,  so  that  many  wars  began  in  the 
city  which  last  even  to  this  day,  and  are  a  cause  of  destruction 
to  the  city,  unless  God  shall  ordain  otherwise." 

God  did  not  interfere  to  save  them  from  the  consequences  of 
their  quarrels :  and  next  year  saw  the  outbreak  of  savage  civil 
wars  at  Reggio  and  Modena,  though  Parma  was  still  in  compara- 
tive peace.  The  last  quarter  of  Salimbene's  chronicle  is  largely 
taken  up  with  the  record  of  these  sordid  and  barbarous  wars, 
which  I  shall  give  only  in  the  briefest  summary,  except  for  those 
personal  touches  which  put  Salimbene  so  high  above  most  of  his 
contemporaries.  Again  in  1284  Reggio  dismissed  its  Podesta  : 
not  only  because  his  acts  were  factious  and  partial,  but  also  be- 
cause he  put  them  to  shame  with  his  uncouthness.  "  He  had 
such  an  impediment  in  his  speech  as  pi-ovoked  his  hearers  to 
laugh  ;  for  when  in  Council  he  would  say  '  Ye  have  heard  what 
hath  been  proposed,'  he  said,  '  Ye  have  heard  what  hath  been 
propolt,'  {audivistis  propoltam),  and  so  they  mocked  him  as  a 
tongueless  man,  for  he  was  thick  of  speech.  Yet  the  citizens 
were  more  worthy  of  scorn  for  electing  to  their  lordship  such 
men  as  are  of  no  worth,  for  it  is  a  sign  that  like  loves  like,  and 
that  they  are  ruled  by  private  friendship,  and  care  little  for  the 

common  profit "  Indeed,  the  position  of  podesta  was  not 

so  enviable  in  those  days,  and  Sacchetti  very  naturally  wondered 
how  any  man  of  sense  could  be  tempted  to  take  the  office.  Here 
is  another  instance  from  Salimbene  :  "  The  Lord  Jacopo  da 
Enzola,  Podesta  of  Modena,  had  fallen  ill  and  died  in  that  city, 
and  lay  buried  there  in  the  Cathedral  church  :  and  on  his  tomb 
he  was  portrayed  sitting  with  all  honour  on  his  horse,  as  became 
a  knight ;  and,  for  that  in  the  days  of  his  government  all  those 
manslaughters  and  misdeeds  had  been  done,  wherefrom  sprang 
the  divisions  of  parties  and  civil  wars  in  Modena  (for  he  had  not 
done  due  justice  and  vengeance  for  them),  therefore  the  men  of 
Modena,  provoked  to  wrath  and  troubled  with  indignation  at 
the  sight  of  these  evils,  put  out  the  eyes  of  the  Podesta's 
image,  and  defiled  his  tomb  in  so  foul  and  swinish  a  fashion  as 
may  scarce  be  written  here."^  (608).  Here  again,  as  usual,  out- 
rage bred  fresh  outrage.  "  In  process  of  time  the  citizens  of  Mo- 
dena, sent  to  Panna  two  ambassadors,  one  of  whom  in  full  Council 
spake  many  opprobrious  insults  against  this  dead  Podesta  Jacopo 
da  Enzola  [who  was  a  native  of  Parma].  Therefore  his  son 
Ghirardino,  provoked  to  wrath  by  these  words,  wrought  according 
to  the  saying  of  Scripture  '  A  patient  man  shall  bear  for  a  time, 
and  afterwards  joy  shall  be  restored  to  him.'  For  when  that 
ambassador  who  had  reviled  his  father  departed,   Ghirardino 


Taking  in  Sail.  205 

followed  after  him  along  the  road  with  certain  wanton  young 
men  ;  and  after  he  was  come  into  the  Bishopric  of  Reggio  he 
grievously  wounded  and  maimed  him,  yet  not  so  as  to  slay  him  : 
wherefore  he  was  condemned  by  the  men  of  Parma  [to  pay  £1,000 
Parmese :]  which  he  paid  to  the  last  penny.  All  this  I  say  to 
show  that  the  men  of  Parma  did  well  in  keeping  justice,  and  they 
did  evil  who  kept  it  not  at  Modena." 

With  such  rulers  and  such  people,  the  story  of  Dante's  Florence 
was  repeated  in  every  city.  A  jealous  quarrel — a  cry  of  "  cosa 
fatta  capo  ha," — a  sudden  murder  in  the  streets — a  consequent 
series  of  vendettas — and  in  a  few  weeks  the  city  was  cleft  in  twain 
by  a  gulf  of  implacable  feuds.  After  some  days  of  street  fighting, 
the  weaker  party  would  be  driven  into  exile,  and  its  houses  razed 
to  the  ground  with  every  circumstance  of  indelible  insult. 
Nothing  tended  so  inevitably  to  perpetuate  civil  feuds  in  Italy 
aa  these  wholesale  expulsions  of  the  beaten  party  and  destructions 
of  their  houses.  Many  who  first  read  how  the  houses  of  the 
Ghibellines  at  Florence  were  pulled  down,  and  their  stones  used 
to  build  walls  which  should  shut  out  all  Ghibellines  for  ever  from 
their  native  city — or  how  the  great  Piazza  was  made  on  the  site 
of  the  houses  of  the  exiled  Uberti — are  apt  to  look  on  these  as 
isolated  and  exceptional  instances ;  but  the  chronicles  of  other 
cities  show  us  that  these  barbarous  reprisals  were  normal  and 
incessant.  The  author  of  the  Chronicon  Parmense  records 
twenty-four  cases  of  house-wrecking  in  the  forty  years  following 
1265.  These  were  all  in  consequence  of  quarrels  between  Guelf 
and  Guelf,  quite  independently  of  the  wholesale  destruction  of 
1247,  when  "the  Ghibellines'  houses  and  towers  were  daily 
destroyed,  and  from  the  bricks  and  beams  and  planks  men  built 
walls  and  engines  for  the  city."  The  provocation  was  usually 
a  murder,  but  often  merely  a  bloodless  quarrel :  as  in  1285  when 
Marcherio  da  Montecchio  "  had  had  words  with  {habneraiit  verba 
cum)  Gherardino  Ansaldi  by  reason  of  the  priory  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew," or  in  1293  when  "the  Lord  Podesta,  with  more  than  1,000 
armed  men,  ran  as  usual  {more  solito)  to  the  house  of  the  Lord 
Giovanni  de'  Nizi,  who  was  a  Frate  Godente,  and  likewise  to  that 
of  Poltrenerio  de'  Ricicoldi,  by  reason  of  certain  injuries  which 
they  had  committed  against  men  of  the  Gild  of  the  Cross," 
The  result  was  that  Italy  swarmed  from  sea  to  sea  with  homeless 
and  desperate  men,  degraded  still  more  by  that  hand-to-mouth 
kfe  and  base  companionship  which  Dante  describes  so  bitterly 
{Parad.  xvii.  58  foil.)  The  acts  of  the  Provincial  Synod  of 
Milan,  held  in  1311,  contain  a  long  decree  as  to  the  means  of 
raising  an  income  for  the  many  bishops  who  were  wandering  in 


2o6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

exile  from  their  sees.*  Here  is  the  light  in  which  Salimbene  saw 
all  this,  anticipating  Cacciaguida's  prophecy  by  thirteen  years 
(1287 — 395).  "  Moreover,  in  this  year  all  they  who  were  of  the 
old  party  of  the  Emperor  Frederick,  who  had  long  been  cast  forth 
from  their  own  cities  and  had  wandered  homeless  in  exile,  thought 
to  take  some  city  wherein  they  might  thenceforth  dwell  without 
reproach  and  without  loathing,  and  wherefrom  they  might  take 
vengeance  on  their  enemies  unless  they  would  live  at  peace  with 
them.  They  were  driven  to  this  by  utter  necessity  :  for  indeed 
they  of  the  Church  party  utterly  refused  to  show  them  bowels 
of  mercy  or  receive  them  to  peace  by  opening  their  cities  to 
them."  It  speaks  much  for  Salimbene's  candour,  that,  good 
Guelf  as  he  is,  he  cannot  help  finding  some  sympathy  and 
justification  for  these  Ghibellines  at  bay.  Such  exiles  usually 
seized  a  neighbouring  town  or  castle  from  which  they  might 
harass  their  former  city  and  possibly  some  day,  by  a  sudden 
coup  de  7nai7ij  enter  again  as  victors  and  destroy  their  enemies' 
houses  in  turn.  Desperate  themselves,  they  collected  round 
them  all  the  desperate  characters  of  the  district.  The  Monk  of 
Canossa — probably  one  of  those  unfrocked  clerics  so  often 
conspicuous  among  the  ruffian  leaders  of  medieval  wars — made 
his  den  in  Matilda's  old  castle,  and  was  probably  still  there  in 
the  year  when  Dante  saw  the  transfigured  Countess  in  his  Earthly 
Paradise.  Here  is  another  scene  from  Salimbene  (592).  When 
the  exiles  stormed  Magreba,  "  Nero  da  Leccaterra  entered 
into  the  church  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  set  fire  to  it  that  it 
might  be  utterly  consumed,  saying,  '  Now,  St.  Mary,  defend 
thyself  if  thou  canst  ! '  Yet  even  as  he  spake  these  words  of 
malice  and  insult,  a  lance  hurled  by  some  other  hand  pierced 
through  his  breastplate  and  entered  even  into  his  heart,  and 
suddenly  he  fell  down  dead.  And,  for  it  is  certain  that  his  own 
men  hurled  no  such  lance,  especially  against  their  Captain, 
therefore  it  is  believed  that  the  blow  was  dealt  by  St.  Mercury, 
both  because  he  is  the  wonted  avenger  of  wrongs  done  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  and  also  because  he  slew  the  apostate  Julian  with 
his  lance  in  the  Persian  war."  This  legend  of  Julian's  death 
by  the  lance  of  St.  Mercury  and  at  the  command  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  occurs  first  in  the  Life  of  St.  Basil,  whose  prayers  are 
said  to  have  brought  about  this  vengeance ;  it  is  told  also  by 
Vincent  of  Beauvais ;  and  Caesarius  quotes  it  as  a  proof  that 
Christian  charity  by  no  means  forbids  one  saint  to  avenge  in- 
juries done  to  another :  "  St.  Mercury  the  Martyr,  though  per- 
chance in  this  life  he  prayed  for  his  own  murderers,  yet  stepped 
down  from  the  realms  of  glory  to  slay  Julian."* 


Taking  in  Sail.  207 

The  brutalities  committed  on  each  side  were  awful.  The 
destruction  of  houses  and  crops,  orchards  and  vineyards,  went 
on  wholesale :  our  good  friar  spares  a  word  of  special  regret 
for  one  particular  vineyard  "  which  made  Vernaccia  wine."* 
Prisoners  were  killed  in  cold  blood  or  carried  off  like  cattle  :  "  the 
greater  part  of  these  103  prisoners  were  bound  with  a  single 
rope  and  led  off"  to  Reggio,  where  men  threw  them  into  chains 
and  kept  them  bound  in  the  common  prison."  On  one  attack, 
children  were  slaughtered  in  their  cradles  :  at  another  time,  the 
men  vented  their  spite  on  the  women  (587).  "  In  this  year, 
when  the  women  of  Modena  had  come  forth  to  gather  grapes 
in  the  vineyards,  the  men  of  Sassuolo  took  300  of  them  and 
led  them  to  Sassuolo,  and  there  cast  them  into  prison  .  .  . 
but  tliey  were  quickly  loosed,  for  the  Modenese  for  their  part 
took  the  women  of  Sassuolo."  It  is  not  surprising  to  find  that 
these  ruffians,  losing  heart  in  battle,  "  took  to  flight,  casting  away 
their  arms  and  garments  and  all  that  they  had,  desiring  only  to 
save  their  souls  ;  "  or  that  another,  taken  prisoner  by  the  Monk 
of  Canossa,  "  after  but  small  persuasion  of  torture,  became  of  his 
party  and  dwelt  from  thenceforth  with  him."  Yet  the  men  who 
did  these  things  might  be  good  churchmen,  as  churchmanship 
was  often  understood.  Here  is  Salimbene's  description  of  the 
Lord  Burigardo,  who  cast  the  300  women  into  prison.  (589) 
"And  note  that  he  bad  certain  virtues  {bonitates)  towards  God  : 
for  he  was  so  devout  that  he  always  had  a  chaplain  of  his  own  at 
his  court,  (as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes)  who  daily  said  Mass 
for  him  and  celebrated  divine  service.  When  he  was  at  Reggio 
he  sent  the  Friars  Minor  a  great  branched  candlestick  to  illum- 
inate and  honour  the  Lord's  body,  when  it  is  elevated  and  shown 
to  the  people  in  the  Mass."  So  far  these  people  came  up  to  the 
modern  idea  of  the  medieval  robber-baron  :  but  modern  ideas  of 
chivalry  will  find  little  satisfaction  in  the  friar's  chronicle.  Only 
one  trait  of  generosity  is  recorded  in  this  whole  dismal  series  of 
civil  conflicts :  and  the  very  stress  laid  on  this  is  eloquent  as  to 
the  ordinary  practice.  (636)  "  The  chief  captain  of  the  men 
of  Gesso  was  the  Lord  Rolandino  of  Canossa,  a  fair  and  noble 
man,  courtly  and  liberal,  and  who  in  his  day  had  been  Podesta 
of  many  divers  cities.  His  mother  was  of  the  house  of  Piedemonte, 
a  noble  lady  and  most  holy  of  life.  Moreover  the  Lord  Rolandino 
did  one  great  act  of  courtesy  which  is  worthy  to  be  recounted 
and  remembered.  For  when  the  men  of  Gesso  had  a  truce  with 
the  men  of  Albinea,  a  certain  man  of  Albinea  came  and  complained 
to  the  Lord  Rolandino  that  a  man  of  Gesso  had  driven  off"  his 
oxen.     And  he  had  the  oxen  forthwith  restored  to  him,  adding 


2o8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

*  what  wilt  thou  now  ? '  Then  the  man  answered  '  I  would 
have  that  man,  whom  I  see  standing  there,  restore  me  my  garment 
which  he  hath.'  So  the  Lord  Rolandino  prayed  the  man  to 
restore  the  garment;  and  when  he  utterly  refused,  he  himself 
took  off  his  outer  mantle  and  gave  it  to  the  man  who  had  been 
robbed,  saying  'Methinks  thou  hast  now  full  satisfaction  for 
thy  garment :  go  now  in  peace.'  When  therefore  the  country 
fellow  who  had  stolen  the  garment  saw  this,  he  was  ashamed  and 
fell  at  the  Lord  Rolandino's  feet  and  confessed  his  fault." 

Imagine  the  lot  of  the  ordinary  peasant  in  these  times — the 
class  of  whom  we  often  speak  as  the  backbone  of  the  country, 
fretting  ourselves  nowadays  merely  because  they  insist  on 
flocking,  like  ourselves,  to  the  towns  !  Castles  and  cities  being 
generally  too  well  fortified  for  attack,  the  whole  story  of  the  war 
is  that  of  outrages  and  reprisals  upon  the  peasants  of  either  party. 
"The  villagers  dwelt  apart  almost  after  the  fashion  of  the 
Sidonians,  nor  was  there  any  that  resisted  their  enemies  or 
opened  the  mouth  or  made  the  least  noise.  And  that  night 
they  burned  fifty-three  houses  in  the  village,  good  and  mean 
alike :  and  they  would  have  burned  all  without  distinction  but 
that  they  desisted  at  the  prayers  of  the  Friars  Minor  who  opposed 
themselves  to  the  evildoers.  So  the  men  of  Bibbiano  seeing  this 
gave  £100  imperial  to  the  men  of  Gesso,  and  made  a  truce  with 
them  for  one  year,  that  they  might  labour  in  safety  and  gather 
in   the   fruits   of  the   earth."     The   majority  of   the  peasants' 

f)ossessions  were  thus  at  the  mercy  of  their  enemies  :  even  their 
ives  and  portable  goods  were  in  comparative  safety  only  when 
they  neglected  ecclesiastical  prohibitions  and  turned  the  parish 
churches  into  fortresses.  Short  of  this,  there  was  no  salvation 
but  in  bodily  removal  of  their  houses.  (633)  "The  men  of 
•Castelli  carried  away  their  houses  and  rebuilt  them  round  the 
mount  of  Bianello,  on  its  very  summit.  Likewise  did  the  men 
of  Coresana  and  Farneto  and  Corniano  and  Piazzola  round  Monte 
Lucio,  on  its  highest  point ;  likewise  also  did  the  men  of  Oliveto  ; 
the  men  of  Bibbiano  also  fortified  themselves,  fearing  the  war 
to  come.  But  the  men  of  San  Polo  d'Enza  built  their  houses 
round  the  parish  church,  and  digged  moats  and  filled  them  with 
water,  that  they  might  be  safe  from  the  face  of  the  spoiler."  The 
ordinary  farm-house  was  evidently  slight  enough  in  those  days ; 
for  Salimbene  thus  describes  the  rejoicings  after  a  battle  :  "  that 
evening  the  citizens  kindled  a  beacon  of  fire  on  the  summit  of 
the  Tower  of  the  Commune  at  Reggio  in  sign  of  joy  and  gladness, 
and  to  rejoice  the  hearts  of  their  friends  :  and  they  for  their  part 
did  likewise,  showing  lighted  beacons,  as  the  country  folk  do  at 


Taking  in  Sail.  209 

carnival  times,  when  they  burn  down  their  cottasres  and  hovels  " 
(639). 

Nor  was  it  only  the  peasants  who  suffered  from  what  may  be 
called  the  contingent  horrors  of  civil  war.  In  those  days  of 
exasperated  party  feeling,  both  sides  were  merciless  to  traitors, 
real  or  suspected  (1287—394).  "The  Monk  of  Canossa  took 
Bernardo  Oruglielmi,  deacon  of  the  church  of  S.  Antonino  at 
Castelli,  who  confessed  outright  and  of  his  own  free  will,  without 
torment  (as  they  said  who  took  him  captive)  that  he  would  have 
betrayed  Bianello  to  the  men  of  Gesso.  So  forthwith  they  slit 
his  windpipe,  and  dragged  his  dead  body  naked  through  the 
town  :  afterwards  they  cast  him  forth  like  carrion  without  the 
walls,  and  so  he  was  buried  in  his  bare  shirt  at  the  church  of 
S.  Antonino.  On  St.  John  Baptist's  day  when  I  sang  Mass  at 
Bianello,  that  same  man  sang  the  gospel  to  my  Mass ;  and  that 
same  year,  on  the  day  following  the  feast  of  the  beheading  of  St. 
John  Baptist,  he  also  was  beheaded.  Moreover,  they  cut  out 
the  tongue  of  his  sister.  Bertha  by  name,  and  cast  her  forth  into 
perpetual  banishment.  For  they  accused  not  only  her  but  also 
the  dead  man's  leman  or  concubine  of  carrying  evil  news  to  and 
fro  between  Gesso  and  certain  abominable  traitors  at  Castelli- 
That  deacon  was  an  old  man  :  he  kept  a  concubine,  and  at  his 
last  end  he  could  not,  or  would  not,  make  his  confession.  He  was 
slain  by  one  Martinello,  a  murderer  and  notorious  evildoer  whom 
the  monk  of  Bianello  kept  in  his  castle.  The  year  before,  the 
Monk's  hired  murderers  had  slain  the  parish  priest  of  S.  Polo, 
on  the  same  accusation  that  he  was  not  truly  of  the  Monk's  party, 
and  for  many  other  reasons  which  are  not  worthy  to  be  told  or 
remembered.  His  four  murderers  supped  familiarly  with  him 
one  evening  ;  and  at  night  as  he  slept  under  his  own  roof  and  in 
his  own  chamber,  they  slew  him  with  their  swords  and  deformed 
his  corpse  with  so  foul  a  mockery  that  it  was  a  horrible  and 
monstrous  sight  to  see.  But  God  brought  swift  vengeance  on 
them  ;  for  before  the  year  was  past,  Raimondello  was  slain  by 
the  men  of  Gesso,  into  whose  hands  Giacomello  likewise  fell, 
and  they  smote  out  two  of  his  teeth  and  scarce  left  him  his  life  ; 
and  God  smote  Accorto  and  Ferrarello  in  their  own  beds."  On 
another  occasion  Modena  was  nearly  taken  by  a  band  of  exiles 
treacherously  introduced  by  night :  and  next  morning  (1287 — 397) 
"  men  began  to  enquire  diligently  who  were  the  traitors  who  had 
let  them  in.  And  they  took  the  Lord  Garso  de'  Garsoni  and 
hanged  him  at  the  Porta  Bazoaria  ;  and  in  those  days  thirty -nine 
men  were  hanged  for  the  same  cause,  some  of  whom  were  said  to 
have  been  guiltless.     The  Podesta  of  Modena  at  that  time  was 


2 1  o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  Lord  Bernardino  of  Ravenna,  son  to  the  Lord  Guido  da 
Polenta,"  and  therefore  brother  to  Francesca  da  Rimini.  .  .  "  So 
the  Lord  Matteo  Correggio  went  to  Modena,  and  there  in  the 
Palazzo  Communale,  before  the  full  council,  he  bitterly  rebuked 
the  Podesta,  saying,  *  Of  a  truth,  my  Lord  Podesta,  ye  have 
brought  a  great  burden  upon  us  and  upon  this  city,  seeing  that 
we  must  now  dwell  in  fear  our  whole  life  long  by  reason  of  the 
headlong  vengeance  which  ye  have  taken.' '  Two  similar 
instances  of  torture  and  random  vengeance  are  recorded  about 
the  same  time  (1287—389). 

One  of  the  most  hopeless  features  of  these  civil  wars  is  the 
part  played  in  them  by  Churchmen.  Salimbene  shows  us 
bishops  driven  out  of  their  sees  for  their  share  in  these  faction- 
fights  :  the  archpriest  of  Fornovo  murdered  in  one  political 
quarrel :  and  the  Bishop  of  Tortona  in  another,  by  the  "  Guglielmo 
Marchese  "  of  Purg.  vii.  134.  The  abbots  of  the  great  mon- 
asteries, again,  were  almost  as  rich  and  powerful  as  the  bishops  : 
and  they  too  were  generally  chosen  on  political  principles 
and  expected  to  work  for  political  ends. 

San  Prospero  at  Reggio  was  one  of  the  great  abbeys  of  Italy, 
though  its  princely  revenues  had  within  recent  years  been  much 
diminished  by  lawsuits  and  wars.  The  Abbot's  election  in  1272 
had  been  celebrated  by  a  great  feast  "  whereat  all  the  clergy  and 
men  of  Religion  were  present,  and  all  the  good  men  {i.e.  the  upper 
classes)  of  the  city"  (488).  In  1284  we  find  the  Abbot  on 
the  losing  side  in  the  civil  strife  at  Reggio,  and  only  enabled 
to  retain  his  Abbey  by  making  peace  with  his  powerful  enemies 
the  Boiardi,  ancestors  of  the  famous  poet.  Now,  however,  in 
1286,  the  Abbot  fell  under  suspicion  not  only  of  giving  help  to 
the  other  party,  but  also  of  complicity  in  two  recent  murders — 
that  of  the  brothers  da  Bianello  and  of  the  archpriest  Gerardo 
Boiardi.  The  rest  may  be  told  in  Salimbene's  words  (621) 
"  The  Abbot  Guglielmo  de'  Lupicini  was  a  good  man  indeed 
with  regard  to  God  and  to  man's  honour ;  but  as  regards 
worldly  affairs  he  was  simple,  and  churlish,  and  miserly  ;  for  he 
treated  his  monks  ill  in  the  matter  of  their  food,  and  therefore  he 
found  them  traitors  afterwards.  For  Bonifazio  Boiardi,  with 
the  connivance  of  certain  monks  who  stood  ill  with  their  Abbot 
for  that  he  had  dealt  unkindly  with  them  in  the  matter  of  victuals, 
took  the  monastery  by  assault  on  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  at  the 
hour  of  dinner  ;  and,  having  despoiled  it  of  all  that  he  coveted, 
he  departed.  And  the  Abbot  sought  safety  in  flight  and  came 
to  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor,  where  he  abode  all  that  day 
and  the  night  following  ;  then  he  went  to  the  house  of  his  brother 


Taking  in  Sail.  2 1 1 

by  blood,  named  Sinibaldo,  and  dwelt  there  some  days  in  doubt 
of  mind  and  anguish  of  heart.  Moreover,  the  said  Bonifazio 
seized  all  the  granges  of  the  convent  at  the  season  of  wheat- 
harvest,  and  afterwards  he  seized  Fossola  by  force,  and  besieged 
and  took  and  burnt  Domomatta,  where  he  slew  a  man  who 
defended  his  oxen  and  would  not  yield  them  up  ;  and  another 
they  beat  and  grievously  wounded,  leaving  him  half  dead.  And 
note  that  all  these  things  had  been  foretold  to  the  Abbot  before 
the  event ;  but  in  his  simplicity  and  his  miserliness  he  would  not 
avoid  them  nor  beware.  But  his  friends,  seeing  that  he  was 
slow  to  guard  himself,  came  of  their  own  accord  and  uninvited, 
forty  good  men  of  Reggio  in  all,  and  kept  the  convent  of  San 
Prospero  all  night  before  Pentecost.  But  when  the  dinner  hour 
came  he  thanked  them  not  for  the  guard  which  they  had  held  all 
night  long,  nor  did  he  call  them  to  dinner,  but  suffered  each  to 
go  and  dine  at  his  own  house  while  he  himself  went  to  dine  at  his 
palace  with  certain  esquires  and  pages  of  his  own.  And  lo,  while 
he  sat  at  meat  and  believed  that  all  was  at  peace,  suddenly  he 
heard  the  bell  which  the  traitor  monks  rang  from  the  campanile. 
Then  the  secular  enemies  of  the  Abbot  came  forth  swiftly  from 
their  hiding-places  and  rushed  into  the  convent,  wishing  to  make 
a  fresh  Abbot  of  their  own  ;  but  by  God's  mercy  the  Abbot  cast 
himself  down  from  a  certain  small  upper  chamber  which  they 
call  the  ambulatory,  and  forthwith  he  waded  through  the  city 
moat  and  came,  as  aforesaid,  to  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor, 
trembling  for  fear  as  a  rush  trembles  in  the  water.  There  all  his 
friends  who  came  to  visit  him  cursed  him,  heaping  reproaches 
and  imprecations  on  his  head ;  for  they  said  that  all  this  was 
befallen  him  by  reason  of  his  churlishness  and  avarice.  Yet  he 
bore  all  with  much  patience,  knowing  himself  guilty  in  this 
matter.  Moreover,  the  month  before,  that  is  in  May,  before 
these  things  had  befallen  the  Abbot  .  .  .  .  " 

Here  we  have  another  lamentable  gap  of  five  sheets,  torn  out 
by  some  impatient  reader  who  was  no  doubt  offended  by  our 
friar's  frank  revelations.  The  Abbot's  story,  like  most  others  of 
the  kind,  had  a  bloody  sequel  next  year,  when  (625)  "peace 
was  made  between  the  Lupicini  and  Boiardi,  and  two  monks  of 
San  Prospero  were  slain.  These  were  the  monks  who  had 
betrayed  both  their  Abbot  and  their  convent.  And  in  process 
of  time  within  a  brief  space,  another  monk  of  the  same  convent 
was  slain  in  revenge  for  those  two,  on  his  way  to  the  court  with 
another  priest,  for  the  Abbot  had  made  him  his  proctor.  He  asked 
of  his  murderers  '  Who  are  ye  ?  '  They  answered  and  said  '  We 
are  the  proctors  of  those  two  monks  who  were  slain  a  few  days 


212  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

past ;  and  we  have  been  sent  to  return  blow  for  blow.'  Thus 
then  they  wounded  him  and  left  him  half  dead  ;  and  he  was 
taken  to  the  house  of  his  parents,  where  he  confessed  himself 
well,  and  fell  asleep  in  the  Lord.  And  within  a  few  days  the 
mother  of  this  monk,  bowed  down  with  grief,  fell  sick  and  gave 
up  the  ghost."  Dom  AfFarosi,  the  historian  of  S.  Prospero. 
gives  us  further  details  of  these  disorders.  The  Boiardi  had 
sacked  not  only  the  convent  but  the  church.  As  the  civil  wars 
went  on,  the  affairs  of  the  convent  went  from  bad  to  worse,  so 
that  the  monks  were  obliged  to  desert  it  altogether  and  live  in 
their  own  hospice  of  S.  Matteo.  Not  until  some  years  after, 
when  the  city  had  recovered  a  little  quiet  by  throwing  itself  into 
the  arms  of  the  despot  Obizzo  da  Este,  was  Guglielmo's  successor 
able  to  begin  restoring  the  ravages  wrought  on  the  Abbey  by 
these  wars.  The  Parmese,  dreading  the  effect  of  these  quarrels 
at  Reggio  and  Modena  on  their  own  tranquillity,  tried  to  make 
peace  but  only  earned  the  further  enmity  of  the  two  jealous 
cities.  Shortly  after  our  chronicler's  death,  Parma  also  "  drank 
of  the  cup  of  God's  fury." 


Chapter  XVIII. 
Fresh  Storms. 

THE  reader  will  easily  realize  that  politics  were  a  vivid  interest 
in  those  days ;  and  it  is  natural  that  the  friars'  manuals 
should  strictly  forbid  all  listening  to  or  repeating  tales  of 
worldly  wars.  This,  however,  if  we  may  judge  from  Salimbene, 
did  not  render  them  less  curious.  Over  and  over  again,  he  ends 
some  fresh  entry  in  his  chronicle  with  a  phrase  like  this  :  "  Thus 
matters  stand  to-day,  on  the  Octave  of  the  Nativity  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin :  how  they  will  end  we  know  not ;  yet,  if  life  be  spared 
us,  we  shall  see."  We  need  not  wonder  that  divines  and  prophets 
were  in  great  request  throughout  these  uncertain  times.  "  The 
Inner  Party  of  Modena  had  a  man  of  Brescia  who  called  himself 
an  astrologer  and  diviner,  to  whom  they  gave  daily  ten  great 
pennies  of  silver,  and  nightly  three  great  Genoese  candles  of  the 
purest  wax,  and  he  promised  them  that  if  they  fought  a  third 
time  they  should  have  the  victory.  And  they  answered  him 
'  We  will  not  fight  on  a  Monday  or  a  Tuesday,  for  that  we  have 
been  conquered  on  those  two  days.  Choose  us  therefore  another 
day ;  and  know  that  if  we  gain  not  this  time  the  promised 
victory,  we  will  tear  out  thy  remaining  evil  eye : '  for  he  was 
one-eyed.  So,  fearing  to  be  found  out  in  his  falsehood,  he  carried 
off  all  that  he  had  gained,  and  went  his  way  without  saluting 
his  hosts.  Then  the  men  of  Sassuolo  began  to  mock  them,  *  as 
men  who  sacrifice  to  devils  and  not  to  God,'  as  it  is  written  in 
Deuteronomy."  Moreover,  two  of  the  soothsayers  whom  Dante 
has  gibbeted  were  consulted  in  these  civil  wars.  Asdente  is  first 
mentioned  on  p.  512,  where  he  is  described  as  "a  poor  working 
cobbler,  pure  and  simple  and  fearing  God  and  courteous  and 
urbane  :  illiterate,  but  with  great  illumination  of  mind,  so  that  ho 
understood  the  writings  of  those  who  have  foretold  the  future, 
as  Abbot  Joachim,  Merlin,  Methodius  and  the  Sibyl,  Isaiah, 
tleremiah,  Hosea,  Daniel  and  the  Apocalypse,  and  Michael  Scot, 
who  was  astrologer  to  the  deposed  Emperor  Frederick  II.  And 
many  things  have  I  heard  from  Asdente  which  in  process  of  time 


2 1 4  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

came  to  pass,  viz.  that  Pope  Nicholas  III  should  die  in  the  month 
of  August,  and  be  succeeded  by  Pope  Martin :  and  many  other 
things  which  we  hope  to  see  if  life  be  spared  us.  This  man 
besides  his  own  name,  which  is  Master  Benvenuto,  is  commonly 
called  Asdente,  that  is  toothless,  by  way  of  contrari^,  for  he  hath 
great  and  disordered  teeth  and  an  impediment  in  his  speech,  yet 
he  understands  and  is  understood  well.  He  dwells  at  the  bridge- 
head of  Parma,  hard  by  the  city  moat  and  the  well,  along  the 
street  which  goes  to  Borgo  San  Donnino."  He  is  mentioned 
again  under  1284  (531)  "  When  the  ambassadors  of  Reggio  were 
in  their  lodging  in  the  suburb  of  Santa  Cristina,  hearing  of 
Asdente  the  prophet  of  the  men  of  Parma,  they  sent  for  him  to 
consult  him  of  tneir  state,  and  laid  it  on  his  soul  that  he  should 
withdraw  no  word  of  the  future  which  the  Lord  purposed  to  bring 
about.  So  he  answered  that  if  they  would  keep  themselves  in 
peace  to  the  Feast  of  Christ's  Nativity  they  should  escape  the 
wrath  of  God  :  if  not,  they  should  drink  of  the  cup  of  His  wrath  as 
the  men  of  Modena  had  drunk.  They  answered  him  that  they 
would  keep  well  at  peace,  for  they  purposed  to  make  intermarriages 
for  peace  and  friendship.  Yet  he  answered  that  they  were  doing  all 
these  things  fraudulently,  and  under  a  cloak  and  veil  of  peace. 
Wherefore  the  ambassadors  of  Reggio  returned,  and  ceased  from 
their  marriages,  and  are  rather  preparing  themselves  to  make  and 
gather  together  arms  of  war  than  to  keep  peace  with  each  other, 
that  the  word  of  Michael  Scot  may  be  fulfilled  in  them,  which 
he  wrote  in  his  verses  wherein  he  predicted  the  future,  '  And  the 
factions  at  Reggio  shall  hold  ill  words  together.'  " 

A  little  lower  down  we  come  for  the  third  time  to  Asdente,  and 
see  again  what  injustice  Dante  has  done  him.  (532)  "In  those 
days  the  Lord  Obizzo,  Bishop  of  Parma,  invited  to  dinner  the 
prophet  of  the  men  of  Parma,  who  is  called  Asdente,  and  enquired 
of  him  diligently  concerning  the  future.  And  he  said  that  within 
a  short  while  the  men  of  Reggio  and  Parma  would  suffer  many 
tribulations ;  and  he  foretold  likewise  the  death  of  Pope  Martin 
IV,  determining  and  specifying  the  times  of  all  these  things  which 
I  will  not  set  down  :  and  he  foretold  that  three  Supreme  Pontiffs 
should  succeed  and  be  at  discord  with  each  other,  one  of  whom 
should  be  lawful,  and  two  unlawfully  created  :  and  he  had 
foretold  the  ruin  of  Modena  before  it  came  to  pass.  This  man  is 
only  so  far  a  prophet,  that  he  hath  a  mind  illuminated  to  under- 
stand the  sayings  of  Merlin  and  the  Sibyl  and  the  Abbot  Joachim, 
and  all  who  have  foretold  anything  of  the  future.  He  is  courteous 
and  humble  and  familiar,  and  without  pomp  or  vainglory.  Nor 
doth  he  say  anything  positively,  but  rather,  '  Thus  it  seemeth 


Fresh  Storms. 


215 


to  me,'  or  '  Thus  do  I  understand  that  scripture.'  And  when 
any  man  reading  before  him  omits  anything,  immediately  he 
perceives  it,  and  says,  '  Thou  deceivest  me,  for  thou  hast  omitted 
something.'  And  many  come  from  divers  parts  of  the  world  to 
inquire  of  him.  A  good  three  months  beforehand  he  predicted 
the  mishap  of  the  Pisans  ;  for  a  man  of  Pisa  came  to  Parma  of  set 
purpose  to  inquire  of  him,  after  Pisa  had  already  fought  twice 
with  Genoa.  For  the  men  of  Pisa  and  Genoa  met  three  times 
in  sea-fight,  once  in  1283,  and  twice  in  1284.  In  the  first  two 
fights  6000  Pisans  were  reckoned  among  the  dead  and  wounded, 
and  while  they  still  fought  fiercely  at  sea,  a  man  of  Genoa  boarded 
a  Pisan  vessel,  and  loaded  himself  with  many  plates  of  silver, 
and  thus  armed  in  steel  and  laden  with  silver,  wishing  to  board 
his  own  ship  again,  he  missed  his  mark,  and  plunged  to  the  bottom 
like  a  stone,  with  his  silver  and  his  steel  and  perchance  with 
many  crimes  on  his  head.  All  this  I  heard  from  our  Lector  at 
Kavenna,  who  was  a  Genoese,  and  newly  come  from  Genoa. 
Note  and  consider  the  marvel  that  the  Pisans  were  taken  by  the 
Genoese  at  the  same  season  and  month  and  day  and  place  wherein 
they  themselves  had  taken  the  prelates  in  the  days  of  Pope 
Gregory  IX  of  pious  memory,  that  thou  mayest  see  the  truth 
of  what  the  Lord  saith  '  He  that  toucheth  you,  toucheth  the 
apple  of  my  eye.'  And  note  that  the  Parmese,  of  whom  I  am 
one,  are  wont  to  say  that  a  vengeance  of  thirty  years  old  is 
timely  enough,  and  they  say  the  truth. 

So  in  this  year  1284  the  Pisans,  seeing  all  the  evil  which  the 
Genoese  had  inflicted  upon  them,  and  wishing  to  avenge  them- 
selves, built  many  ships  and  galleys  and  sea-vessels,  in  the  river 
Arno,  and  when  the  fleet  had  been  made  ready,  they  ordained 
that  none  betwixt  the  ages  of  20  and  60  years  should  stay  at 
home,  but  all  should  go  to  the  fight.  And  they  scoured  the  whole 
of  the  Genoese  shore,  destroying  and  burning,  killing  and  taking 
captives,  and  plundering.  And  this  they  did  along  all  the  shore 
from  Genoa  to  Provence,  desiring  to  find  the  Genoese  and  fight 
with  them.  But  the  Genoese  had  ordained  that  none  of  their 
citizens  should  remain  at  home  between  the  ages  of  18  years  and 
70,  for  all  must  go  to  fight.  Thus  they  scoured  the  sea,  desiring 
to  find  the  Pisans.  At  last  they  found  each  other  between  the 
point  of  Corsica  and  Gorgona,  and  grappled  their  ships  together 
after  the  fashion  of  sea-fights,  and  there  they  fought  with  such 
slaughter  on  either  side  that  even  the  heavens  seemed  to  weep 
in  compassion,  and  many  on  either  part  were  slain,  and  many 
ships  sunken.  But  when  the  Pisans  had  already  the  upper  hand, 
other  Genoese  came  and  fell  upon  them,  wearied  as  they  were. 


2 1 6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Nevertheless,  the  battle  still  raged  furiously  on  both  sides.  At 
last,  the  Pisans  finding  themselves  worsted,  yielded  themselves 
to  the  Genoese,  who  slew  the  wounded,  and  kept  the  rest  in 
prison  :  and  even  the  victors  had  no  cause  for  boasting,  since 
fortune  was  cruel  to  either  side;  and  there  was  such  weeping  and 
wailing  in  Genoa  and  Pisa  as  was  never  heard  in  those  two  cities 
from  the  day  of  their  foundation  to  our  times.  For  who  without 
woe  and  bitter  weeping  can  consider  how  those  two  noble  cities, 
whereby  all  plenty  of  good  things  came  to  us  in  Italy,  destroyed 
each  other  from  mere  ambition  and  pomp  and  vainglory,  whereby 
each  desired  to  overcome  the  other,  as  though  the  sea  were  not 
wide  enough  for  the  ships  of  both  1  I  care  not  to  write  here  the 
number  of  captives  and  slain  from  either  side,  for  they  were 
diversely  told.  Yet  the  Archbishop  of  Parma,  in  his  letter  to 
his  blood-brother  the  Bishop  of  Bologna,  hath  named  a  certain 
number,  which  also  1  care  not  to  write  ;  for  I  expect  Brethren 
Minor  of  Pisa,  who  will  better  tell  me  the  exact  number.  And 
note  that  this  murderous  fight  between  Genoa  and  Pisa  Avas  fore- 
told long  before  it  happened.  For  in  the  town  of  San  Ruffino 
in  the  Bishopric  of  Parma,  women  who  were  bleaching  linen  by 
night,  saw  two  great  oxen  fighting  and  retreating,  and  again 
meeting  to  fight  with  each  other.  Moreover,  after  the  fight  of 
the  Pisans  and  Genoese,  many  women  of  Pisa,  fair  ladies  and 
noble  and  rich  and  mighty,  gathered  together  in  companies  of 
thirty  and  forty  at  a  time,  and  went  on  foot  from  Pisa  to  Genoa, 
to  seek  out  and  visit  their  captives.  For  one  had  a  husband  there, 
another  a  son  or  a  brother  or  a  cousin  .  .  .  And  when  the  afore- 
said women  sought  out  their  captives,  the  jailers  would  answer 
them,  '  Yesterday  thirty  died,  and  to-day  forty.  We  cast  them 
into  the  sea,  and  thus  we  do  daily  with  the  Pisans.'  So  when  those 
ladies  heard  such  news  of  their  dear  ones  and  could  not  find  them, 
they  fell  down  amazed  with  excess  of  grief,  and  could  scarce 
breathe  for  utter  anguish  and  pain  of  heart.  Then  after  a  while, 
when  their  breath  was  come  again,  they  rent  their  faces  with 
their  nails  and  tore  their  hair,  and  raising  their  voices  wept  with 
great  wailing  until  their  fountain  of  tears  was  dried.  For  the 
Pisans  died  in  prison  of  hunger  and  famine,  and  poverty  and 
misery,  and  anguish  and  sadness,  for  '  they  that  hated  them  had 
dominion  over  them,  and  their  enemies  afflicted  them :  and 
they  were  humbled  under  their  hands.'  Nor  were  they  thought 
worthy  of  the  sepulchres  of  their  fathers,  and  they  were  deprived 
of  burial  rites.  Moreover,  when  the  aforesaid  ladies  of  Pisa 
were  come  home,  they  found  others  dead  whom  they  had  left 
safe  in   their  homes.     For  the  Lord  smote  the   Pisans  with  a 


Fresh  Storms.  217 

plague  in  that  year,  and  many  died :  nor  was  there  any  house 
without  its  dead.  For  the  sword  of  the  Lord's  fury  slew  the 
Pisans,  because  they  rebelled  long  time  against  the  Church. 
Four  years  I  dwelt  in  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Pisa,  a 
good  forty  years  past ;  and  therefore  I  am  sad  for  the  Pisans, 
and  have  compassion  on  them,  God  knowethi  Note  moreover 
that  as  there  is  a  natural  loathing  between  men  and  serpents, 
dogs  and  wolves,  horses  and  gryphons,  so  is  there  between  the 
Pisans  and  Genoese,  Pisans  and  men  of  Lucca,  Pisans  and 
Florentines.  So  the  Florentines  and  men  of  Lucca,  who  are 
bound  with  a  chain  of  close  friendship,  hearing  of  this  defeat  of 
the  Pisans,  and  seeing  now  their  own  favourable  time,  ordained 
an  expedition  against  Pisa  a  little  before  Christmas  in  that  same 
year  ;  with  which  expedition  the  men  of  Prato  and  Corneto  also 
were  to  come  and  sweep  the  rest  of  the  Pisans  into  their  net, 
and  raze  the  city  if  possible  to  the  foundations,  and  blot  it  from 
the  face  of  the  earth.  So  the  Pisans  bethought  them  of  a  good 
counsel,  and  sent  the  keys  of  the  gates  of  their  city  to  Pope 
Martin,  that  he  might  defend  them  against  their  enemies.  And 
he  received  them  graciously  and  repressed  the  enemies  that  rose 
up  against  them." 

We  have  seen  how  Asdente  unmasked  the  treachery  which 
underlay  these  pacific  overtures  :  and  Salimbene  shows  us  more 
than  once  how  the  promised  peace  of  those  days  might  be  worse 
than  open  war.  He  himself  was  one  of  the  two  friars  selected 
as  peacemakers  between  the  cities  of  Modena  and  their  exiled 
enemies.  "  They  answered  me  most  courteously  and  kindly, 
that  they  were  most  willing  to  make  peace  with  their  fellow- 
citizens."  (590)  But  there  was  an  evident  want  of  good  faith 
on  both  sides,  and  the  war  blazed  up  again.  This  leads  our 
chronicler  to  remark  "  I  have  little  trust  of  peace  among 
Lombards  :  for  their  peacemakings  are  like  the  boys'  game  when 
they  lay  hand  above  hand  upon  their  knees  :  and  each,  seeking 
to  get  the  better  of  the  other,  withdraws  his  hand  from  below 
and  strikes  it  upon  the  hand  above,  and  thus  each  thinks  to  have 
the  better :  but  oftentimes  we  see  the  conqueror  conquered  in 
his  turn."  And  here,  after  giving  instances  of  inextinguishable 
party  hate  at  Parma  and  Bologna,  Modena  and  Reggio,  and 
Cremona,  in  which  Imperialists  and  Churchmen  had  shown  equal 
rancour  and  treachery,  he  goes  on  to  quote  Jeremiah  ix,  4,  5  and 
Ecclesiasticus  xii,  10-12  :  "  Take  ye  heed  everyone  of  his  neigh- 
bour, and  trust  ye  not  in  any  brother — distrust  thine  enemy  for 
ever  and  ever."  He  quotes  the  old  fable  of  the  man  and  serpent 
who,  for  a  while,  lived  on  friendly  terms  until  one  day  the  latter 


2 1 8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

killed  the  child  of  the  man,  who  cut  off  a  great  part  of  his  tail 
in  revenge,  and  then  felt  generous  enough  to  say  "  Shall  we  make 
peace  ?  "  "  No,"  said  the  serpent :  "  for  thou  wilt  never  forget 
thy  son's  death,  nor  I  my  revenge  when  I  see  my  mutilated  tail. 
Let  each,  therefore,  work  for  his  own  hand  as  best  he  can,  which 
will  be  more  profitable  alike  for  thee  and  for  me." 

Moreover,  Salimbene's  descriptions  show  that  these  later  wars 
in  Emilia  were  no  less  barbarous  than  those  of  Romagna  which 
he  has  already  painted  in  such  lurid  colours.  (1287-392)  "  Under 
pretext  of  the  peace  above-mentioned  the  siege  was  raised  and 
the  men  escaped  ;  yet  peace  was  never  made,  but  the  men  of 
Gesso  did  worse  than  before,  plundering  and  spoiling  the  villages 
of  the  Bishopric  of  Reggio,  and  taking  prisoners,  whom  they 
tortured  with  divers  exquisite  torments  to  extort  money  for 
their  ransom.  And  they  who  did  thus  were  hireling  soldiers  of 
Bergamo  and  Milan  and  other  ruffians  from  Liguria.  Once  they 
took  a  poor  man  who  had  never  harmed  them  ;  nay,  who  would 
have  served  them  if  he  had  been  able  ;  whom  they  led  away 
captive  to  Gesso  and  said  to  him  '  Tax  thyself,'  which  was  as 
much  as  to  say  '  Let  us  hear  what  thou  canst  give  us.'  And 
when  he  answered  that  he  had  nought  to  give,  forthwith  they 
smote  him  in  the  mouth  with  a  flint-stone,  with  which  one  blow 
six  of  his  teeth  were  smitten  out,  and  the  seventh  was  ready  to 
fall.  Likewise  also  they  did  to  many  others.  For  some  men's 
heads  they  bound  with  a  cord  and  lever,  and  strained  it  with  such 
force  that  their  eyes  started  from  their  sockets  and  fell  upon  their 
cheeks  :  others  they  bound  by  the  right  or  left  thumb  only,  and 
thus  lifted  the  whole  weight  of  their  body  from  the  ground  : 
others  again  they  racked  with  yet  more  foul  and  horrible  torments 
which  I  blush  to  relate :  others  they  would  hang  by  the  little 
toe  of  one  foot,  or  seat  them  with  their  hands  bound  behind 
their  back  and  lay  under  their  feet  a  pot  of  live  coals,  blowing 
with  the  bellows  to  stir  them  yet  more ;  with  others  again  they 
would  bind  the  great  toe  of  their  right  foot  with  a  bowstring  to 
one  tooth,  and  then  prick  their  backs  with  a  goad  that  they 
might  tear  out  their  own  teeth ;  or  they  bound  their  hands  and 
legs  together  round  a  spit  (as  a  lamb  is  carried  to  the  butcher) 
and  kept  them  thus  hanging  on  that  pole  all  day  long,  without 
food  or  drink  :  or  again  with  a  hard  and  rough  piece  of  wood  they 
would  rub  and  grate  their  shins  until  the  bare  bone  appeared, 
which  was  a  misery  and  sore  pity  even  to  behold.  And  when  the 
chief  men  of  Gesso  rebuked  them,  saying  that  it  was  horrible  to 
see  such  things  practised  on  Christian  folk,  then  these  ruffians 
waxed  wroth  and  threatened  to  depart  from  them  if  they  suffered 


Fresh  Storms.  219 

not  such  things ;  wherefore  the  chief  men  must  needs  suffer  them 
^vhether  they  would  or  not.  Many  other  torments  they  invented 
and  inflicted,  which  I  have  omitted  for  brevity's  sake  ;  but  these 
1  have  written  that  it  may  be  known  how  some  men  are  more 
cruel  than  beasts  :  wherefore  it  is  nought  but  just  that  they  who 
do  such  things  should  be  tormented  with  such  devils  in  hell." 

Meanwhile,  whoever  might  have  lost  during  these  civil  wars, 
the  friars  of  Reggio  had  steadily  grown.  Already  in  1256  they 
bought  the  Emperor's  palace  for  their  convent,  and  found 
occasion  to  enlarge  it  soon  after.  (463)  Soon  afterwards,  when 
the  Emperor  of  Constantinople  passed  through  Reggio,  it  was 
the  friars  who  lodged  him,  (no  doubt  by  way  of  acknowledg- 
ment for  their  tenure  of  the  palace)  :  and  the  convent  was  the 
scene  of  brilliant  festivities  which  brought  rich  gifts  to  the 
Brethren.  (483)  And  now  (582)  they  began  to  build  a 
new  church,  laying  the  foundation  stone  on  May  18th.  But, 
as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  "  the  whole  May  was  a  rainy  mouth 
that  year,  so  that  it  rained  daily,  and  the  country-folk  were 
disquieted,  for  that  they  could  do  no  work  in  the  fields  :  and 
they  laid  the  blame  on  the  Friars  Minor,  who  had  dug  up  the 
graves  of  the  dead  for  the  foundations  of  their  church."  St. 
Francis  would  have  shared  the  peasants'  horror  at  this  desecration, 
and  still  more  at  the  present  craving  of  his  brethren  for  money 
and  creature  comforts.  The  men  of  Parma,  complains  Salirabene, 
"  cared  little  for  the  friars,  for  they  are  ever  indevout  and  hard- 
hearted towards  men  of  religion."  He  comes  back  to  this  same 
subject  later  on  (596)  while  speaking  of  the  Bishop  of  Spoleto, 
known  as  "  Master  Roland  of  Parma,  whose  father  was  called 
Master  Taberna,  a  comely  and  courteous  man  and  an  excellent 
tailor,  who  made  the  garments  of  the  nobles.  This  Master  Roland 
went  to  Paris  in  great  poverty,  and  there  he  studied  many  years 
in  divers  sciences,  and  became  a  great  clerk  and  full  of  know- 
ledge :  after  which  he  became  a  very  great  advocate  at  the 
Pope's  court,  where  he  gained  wealth  and  honour.  And  to  the 
Religious  of  Parma  he  was  ever  hard  and  clownish,  and  never 
familiar  or  kindly  :  nor  did  he  ever  leave  them  anything  at  his 
death.  And  this  cursed  property  is  common  to  almost  all  the 
people  of  Parma — both  clergy  and  laity,  men  and  women,  noble 
and  commonalty — that  they  are  always  indevout  and  hard  and 
cruel  to  Religious  and  other  servants  of  God,  whether  of  their 
own  or  of  other  cities,  which  would  seem  a  most  evil  sign  of  the 
wrath  of  God  upon  them.  For  as  Ezechiel  saith  '  Behold  this 
was  the  iniquity  of  Sodom  thy  sister,  pride,  fulness  of  bread, 
and  abundance,  and  the  idleness  of  her  and  of  her  daughters, 


220  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  they  did  not  put  forth  their  hand  to  the  needy  and  to  the 
poor,'  so  we  may  say  of  the  city  of  Parma  for  its  hardness  and 
mercilessness  towards  the  poor  servants  of  God  :  and  therefore 
1,  Brother  Salimbene  of  Parma,  have  been  48  years  in  the  Order 
of  Friars  Minor,  yet  never  would  I  dwell  at  Parma  by  reason  of 
the  indevotion  which  its  citizens  show  and  practise  towards  God's 
servants.  For  they  care  not  to  do  them  kindness,  though  at 
times  they  could  easily  help  them  if  they  would :  for  they  are 
most  liberal  in  largesse  to  play-actors  and  minstrels  and  buffoons. 
Certainly  if  a  city  so  great  as  Parma  were  in  France,  then  100 
Friars  Minor  would  be  settled  to  dwell  there  in  all  decency  and 
comfort,  and  abundantly  supplied  with  all  things  needful." 
Yet  presently  a  Parmesan  Cardinal  did  actually  give  £20  Im- 
perial to  the  convent,  and  another  £10  each  to  the  two  Brethren 
who  went  on  an  embassy  to  him  at  Rome  (597) — which  latter 
gift  shows,  even  more  clearly  than  Salimbene's  commercial 
criterion  of  religion,  how  far  the  Order  had  already  changed  in 
the  60  years  since  St.  Francis  had  written  "  I  strictly  forbid  the 
Brethren,  all  and  single,  to  accept  coin  or  money  in  any  way, 
whether  directly  or  through  a  third  person."  We  see  also  how 
fast  the  friars  were  losing  the  unique  popularity  and  influence 
which  they  had  enjoyed  so  long  as  they  were  really  poor. 
(627)  "  In  this  year,  at  the  Carnival  season,  the  men  of  Reggio 
dispoi'ted  themselves  not  after  the  fashion  of  other  Christian 
people,  who  all  and  in  every  place  revel  and  play  the  fool  at  that 
season  {stultizant  et  infatiiantur)  ;  but  rather  they  kept  silence 
as  though  they  mourned  their  dead.  But  in  the  season  of  Lent, 
when  the  time  is  sacred  to  God,  then  began  they  to  play ;  yet 
this  is  the  acceptable  time  and  the  day  of  salvation,  a  time  for 
giving  alms  and  doing  works  of  piety,  moreover  a  time  for  con- 
fession and  hearing  of  sermons,  and  visiting  of  churches,  of  pray- 
ing, and  fasting,  and  weeping,  as  the  church  lessons  tell  us. 
So  in  the  solemn  Lenten  season  the  men  of  Reggio  wrought 
not  the  aforesaid  works  of  piety  or  devotion ;  and  although  the 
Lord  forbiddeth  a  man  to  use  woman's  apparel  they  heeded 
this  not,  but  walked  after  their  own  inventions.  For  many  of 
them  borrowed  garments  from  ladies,  wherein  they  clothed 
themselves  and  began  to  play  and  wander  through  the  city  as 
in  a  tournament.  And,  that  they  might  the  better  resemble 
women,  they  painted  white  masks  wherewith  they  covered  their 
faces,  caring  nought  for  the  penalty  promised  for  such  deeds. 
For  the  Scripture  saith  of  sinners  '  all  faces  shall  be  made  like  a 
kettle :  '  and  again  '  the  faces  of  them  all  are  as  the  blackness 
of  a  kettle  : '  and  again  '  their  face  is  now  made  blacker  than 


Fresh  Storms.  221 

coals.'  (Joel  ii,  6.  Nahum  ii,  10.  Lam.  iv,  8.)  Woe  to  such 
wretched  Christians,  who  strive  to  turn  the  worship  of  the 
Church  into  dissoluteness  and  vain  talk  I  for  certain  wretched 
Christians  in  the  cities  of  Lombardy  neither  fast  nor  confess 
their  sins  in  the  solemn  season  of  Lent.  And,  since  no  flesh  can 
be  found  at  that  season  in  the  market,  therefore  they  eat  in 
secret  the  flesh  of  hens  and  capons ;  and  after  the  hour  of  siesta 
they  sprawl  all  day  long  in  the  squares  and  under  the  porticoes, 
playing  with  dice  at  games  of  hazard ;  and  there  they  blaspheme 
the  Lord,  and  the  Blessed  Virgin  His  mother.  Note  that  the 
Apostle  hath  described  certain  signs  of  evil  Christians  who  shall 
live  about  the  days  of  Antichrist ;  which  signs  seem  to  be  fulfilled 
in  these  men  of  our  days  who  sin  without  shame.  ( 1  Tim.  iv,  1  : 
2  Tim.  iii,  1.)  And  note  that  for  the  many  evils  done  by  the 
Jews,  the  Lord  complained  of  them  and  removed  them  from 
before  his  face  (Jer.  xxxii,  30.)  See  in  the  Bible.  Yet  not 
even  so  will  wretched  sinners  be  warned ;  but  they  are  as  the 
sluggard  of  whom  it  is  written  in  Proverbs  (xxii,  24-32)  For  in 
the  years  before  this  date  certain  millers  of  the  city,  with  cunning 
and  malice  prepense,  begged  and  obtained  of  the  Friars  Minor 
certain  old  frocks,  saying  that  they  would  cause  them  to  be 
cleansed  in  a  fulling-mill  :  and  afterwards,  in  the  Carnival  season 
and  at  the  hour  of  vespers,  they  clothed  themselves  in  these 
borrowed  frocks  as  Friars  Minor  and  danced  in  the  public  street. 
Which  folly  they  wrought  at  the  instigation  of  the  Devil,  desiring 
to  lay  a  blot  on  the  elect,  that  the  passers-by  might  believe  those 
revellers  to  be  Friars  Minor,  and  the  matter  might  thus  redound 
to  the  scandal  and  disgrace  of  the  Order.  But  the  Podesta  of 
the  city,  hearing  of  this,  and  being  moved  to  bitter  wrath  by  his 
zeal  both  for  the  Friars  and  for  the  dignity  of  his  oflSce,  lined 
them  heavily  and  issued  a  perpetual  decree  that  no  others  should 
ever  dare  to  do  likewise.'  Though  two  well-known  preachers 
publicly  justified  these  lententide  revels  at  Reggio,  God  showed 
His  displeasure  by  permitting  the  Monk  of  Canossa  to  make  a 
bloody  incursion  into  the  city  shortly  afterwards:  (632)  "and 
that  day  1  came  down  to  Reggio  from  the  convent  of  Montef alcone 
and  entered  the  city,  and  saw  all  these  things  with  mine  own 
eyes :  for  all  day  I  went  round  the  streets  while  these  things 
were  done.  Moreover,  on  this  day  of  tumult,  after  the  hour  of 
noon,  many  ribalds  and  evildoers  ran  to  the  convent  of  the  Friars 
Minor  and  would  have  entered  it  and  carried  off  the  goods  therein 
deposited  [by  others].  But  the  Brethren  seeing  this  rang  the 
great  bell,  and  forthwith  the  Lord  Guido  da  Tripoli  came  fully 
armed  on  his  charger,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes,  and  smote 


222  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

them  with  his  mace  and  put  them  all  to  flight.  And  he  looked 
on  me  and  said  *  Ha,  Brethren,  why  have  ye  no  stout  staves 
wherewith  to  smite  these  ribalds,  that  they  spoil  not  your  goods  ?  ' 
Then  I  answered  that  it  was  not  lawful  to  us  to  smite  any  man, 
as  the  Lord  saith,  '  If  one  strike  thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  turn 
to  him  also  the  other.'  Yet  He  Himself  showed  that  we  should 
not  do  this  to  the  letter,  in  that  He  answered  to  him  who  smote 
Him  on  the  cheek,  *  If  I  have  spoken  well,  why  strikest  thou 
Me  ? '  Yet  a  certain  holy  father  fulfilled  this  to  the  letter  :  for 
when  a  demoniac  had  smitten  him  on  the  cheek,  he  turned  the 
other ;  and  forthwith  the  demon,  confounded  at  his  humility,  left 
the  man's  body  and  vexed  him  no  more."  Nor  was  this  the  only 
occasion  on  which  rioters  scented  plunder  in  the  friaries  ;  for  "  in 
this  same  year  18  ribalds  of  the  men  of  Gesso  purposed  to  come 
and  despoil  the  Friars  Minor  in  their  convent  of  Montefalcone. 
But  when  this  came  to  the  ears  of  certain  Lords,  they  frighted 
them  by  threats  from  their  purpose  ;  so  that  the  fools  ceased  from 
their  folly."  But,  however  the  Friars  had  lost  in  real  spiritual 
influence  with  the  masses — however  they  might  alarm  even  their 
patron  the  Pope  by  their  encroachments  on  the  duties  and  privil- 
eges of  the  parish  clergy — they  were  still  at  the  zenith  of  their 
popularity  among  the  richer  classes,  to  whom  for  many  generations 
they  were  tactful  and  not  too  exacting  confessors.  Of  this  Sal- 
imbene  gives  us  instructive  glimpses  on  almost  the  last  page  of 
his  chronicle.  In  spite  of  the  peculiarly  odious  crimes  with 
which  he  charges  Obizzo  of  Este,  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
tyrants  in  Dante's  Inferno ;  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  Boccaccio 
put  the  Countess  on  very  much  the  same  moral  plane  as  her 
husband,  our  chronicler  is  proud  to  relate  how  the  former  feasted 
the  assembled  Friars  at  the  General  Chapter  of  1287,  and  how 
the  latter  was  buried  in  their  convent.  This  Chapter  (it  may 
be  noted)  was  presided  over  by  the  Acquasparta  of  Par.  xii.  124. 
It  is  evident  that  the  good  old  friar  felt  deeply  both  the  public 
disasters  around  him  and  the  decaying  prestige  of  his  Order ; 
for  he  more  than  once  lets  fall  a  word  of  discouragement. 
"  These  accursed  parties  and  divisions  in  Italy  cannot  be  healed  or 
assuaged,  by  reason  of  men's  wickedness  and  the  Devil's  malice  " 
(591)  :  and  again  "  the  whole  world  is  seated  in  wickedness." 
One  symptom  of  the  deep-rooted  unrest  was  the  appearance  of 
an  impostor  claiming  to  be  the  Emperor  Frederick,  long  since 
dead  and  damned.  Another  report,  still  more  interesting  to 
Salimbene,  announced  the  impending  convei'sion  of  the  Tartars 
to  Christianity :  for  "  truthful  travellers  who  have  lately  come 
from  the  Holy  Land  ( to  wit,  Friars  Minor  and  Preachers,)  report 


Fresh  Storms.  223 

that  a  very  great  and  new  marvel  shall  come  to  pass  among  the 
Tartars  and  Saracens.  For  they  say  that  the  son  of  the  late 
king  of  the  Tartars  is  purposed  to  be  in  Jerusalem  for  Easter 
Eve  ;  and  if  he  shall  see  the  fire  coming  down  from  heaven  as  the 
Christians  assert,  then  he  promises  to  slay  all  the  heathen  whom 
he  can  find."  These  reports  of  a  wholesale  and  miraculous 
conversion  of  Tartars  or  other  infidels  were  frequently  circulated 
by  "  truthful  travellers  "  in  the  thirteenth  century.  Roger  Bacon 
shows  us  how  they  were  begotten  of  men's  belief  in  the  approach- 
ing end  of  the  world,  to  which  this  conversion  would  be  a  necessary 
jjreliminary  (Matt.  xxiv.  14).^  The  yearly  miracle  of  fire  at 
.Ferusalem  had  been  condemned  by  Gregory  IX  in  1238  as  a 
barefaced  forgery  of  the  canons  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  :  but  it 
evidently  flourished  still,  for  Salimbene  hints  no  suspicion  what>- 
ever,  though  he  was  not  uncritical  for  his  age. 

But  amid  all  his  records  of  war,  and  grave  misgivings  for  the 
future,  he  never  loses  his  interest  in  picturesque  trifles.  He  has 
much  to  tell  us  of  the  obstinate  ambition  of  the  Parmese  to  get 
a  bell  which  would  be  heard  northward  to  rival  Borgo  San 
Donnino,  and  southward  to  Reggio — 14  and  17  miles  oflT.  (584) 
They  sent  for  a  famous  master  who  came  from  Pisa  "  like  a  great 
baron."  The  whole  town  marvelled  at  his  elaborate  preparations 
for  the  great  mould.  Vast  sums  were  spent  on  three  attempts, 
yet  even  the  last  and  best  of  the  three  bells  "  could  scarce  be 
heard  over  the  city  of  Parma,"  which  was  a  providential  blow  to 
the  citizens'  pride.  Two  years  later  a  fourth  was  made,  which, 
before  it  had  been  hung  in  the  tower,  "  fell  down  from  its  platfonn 
and  hurt  no  man,  save  that  it  cut  off  the  foot  of  a  certain  young 
man,  wherewith  he  had  once  spurned  his  own  father  "  (634).  He 
is  always  much  impressed  by  comets,  eclipses,  and  earthquakes, 
and  believes,  of  course,  firmly  in  their  occult  influence  on  current 
events.  Of  plagues  there  are  naturally  frequent  notices  :  e.g.,  in 
1285  (584)  "in  the  village  of  Popilio  in  the  Bishopric  of  Parma 
80  men  died  within  three  months ;  for  this  is  a  general  rule  or 
proved  fact  that,  whensoever  we  have  a  cattle  plague,  the  next 
year  comes  always  a  pestilence  on  men.  The  plague  and  sickness 
was  so  great  that  year  in  Rome,  that  bishops  and  mitred  Abbots, 
between  Easter  and  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption,  died  to  the 
number  of  twenty-four  (593).  And,  of  strangers  only,  two 
thousand  died  in  the  city ;  and  the  Friars  Minor  had  oft-times 
four  funerals  in  their  church  on  one  day.  And  there  was  an  old 
bishop-elect  from  beyond  the  Alps,  who  had  come  to  Rome  for 
his  consecration  ;  and  he  died  with  twenty-five  of  his  attendants. 
Then  I  remembered  the  words  of  the  prophet  Amos  *  Wailing 


224  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

shall  be  in  all  streets,  and  they  shall  say  in  all  the  highways 
Alas  1  alas  ! '  (v.  16,  17  :  viii,  3)."  Later  on  in  the  year  (608) 
"  there  was  a  terrible  plague  among  the  cats  :  for  they  fell  sick, 
and  were  covered  with  blotches  like  lepers,  and  in  process  of  time 
they  died.  Moreover,  on  the  feast  of  St.  Callistus  (Oct.  14) 
two  stars  appeared  in  conjunction  at  the  hour  of  dawn  ;  and  so 
they  appeared  nightly  for  many  days  :  but  about  the  feast  of 
All  Saints  they  began  to  separate  again."  Nothing  seems  to 
escape  him.  He  notices  how  rich  one  particular  summer  is  in 
butterflies,  and  augurs  from  it  a  repetition  of  past  caterpillar 
plagues.  (547)  Another  year,  there  were  "  such  a  vast  multitude 
of  gnats  that  their  importunate  bites  made  men  aweary  of  their 
lives  .  .  .  and  the  reapers  ended  not  their  harvest  till  the  end  of 
July ;  so  that  to  Christian  folk  there  seemed  a  punishment  in 
that  which  had  been  promised  as  a  blessing  to  the  Jews  :  '  the 
threshing  of  your  harvest  shall  reach  unto  the  vintage,  and  the 
vintage  shall  reach  unto  the  sowing-time.'  "  Even  his  smallest 
personal  experiences  are  recorded  to  point  a  moral.  (547)  "  In 
this  aforesaid  year,  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Clara,  I  ate  for  the  first 
time  raviuoli  without  any  crust  of  pastry  ;  and  this  I  say  to  show 
how  subtle  is  human  gluttony  in  this  appetite  of  bodily  meats 
in  comparison  of  earlier  men,  who  were  content  with  the  food 
created  by  nature,  whereof  Ovid  saith  in  the  first  book  of  his 
Metamorphoses  *  And,  contented  with  the  meats  created  of 
nature's  own  free  will,  they  picked  arbutus  berries  and  beechnuts 
from  the  mountains,  and  cornels  and  blackberries  clinging  to 
the  rough  brambles,  and  acorns  fallen  from  the  spreading  tree 
of  Jove.'  "  Raviuoli  are  a  sort  of  rissole  :  and  it  was  evidently 
looked  upon  as  a  tour  de  force  to  fry  them  without  the  usual 
envelope  of  pastry. 

Under  the  year  1285  he  records  an  incident  at  Reggio  which 
illustrates  admirably  the  medieval  attitude  towards  inconvenient 
trade  combinations.  (586)  "  In  this  year  it  was  ordained  in  full 
council  of  the  citizens  of  Reggio,  that  fishmongers  should  sell  no 
fish  from  the  beginning  of  Lent  until  after  Easter,  under  penalty 
of  £25  Bolognese,  and  that  none  should  buy  of  them  under  pain 
of  £10  Bolognese  ;  and  this  statute  was  most  strictly  kept.  Now 
the  cause  thereof  was  that,  when  knights  or  judges  would  enquire 
of  some  fisherman  *  At  what  price  wilt  thou  sell  this  fish  ?  '  the 
latter,  though  asked  twice  or  thrice,  would  disdain  to  answer  ; 
nay,  rather,  he  would  turn  away  his  face,  and  speak  with  his 
partner,  saying :  *  Gossip,  put  the  barrel  or  the  chest  in  that 
place  ! '  according  to  the  Proverb  *  A  servant  will  not  be  correct- 
ed by  words :  because  he  understandeth  what  thou  say  est,  and 


Fresh  Storms.  225 

will  not  answer.'  Moreover,  they  demanded  three  or  four  grossi 
for  a  single  small  tench  or  eel.  When  therefore  the  fishennen 
and  fishmongers  saw  how  strictly  and  steadfastly  men  kept  the 
statute  made  against  them,  and  that  they  lost  much  thereby  (for 
all  their  fish  were  numbered  and  placed  in  stewponds  until  after 
Easter)  then  they  came  to  the  Friars  Minor  and  besought  them 
to  beg  of  the  Podesta  and  the  Captain  and  the  Ancients  and  the 
whole  council  some  relaxation  of  that  statute  :  in  which  case 
they  for  their  part  would  promise  to  sell  reasonably  and  discreetly 
and  courteously  and  good  cheap  to  all  who  desired  to  buy  of 
their  fish.  Yet  not  even  so  was  the  statute  relaxed,  as  the 
Apostle  saith  of  Esau,  'for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance, 
although  with  tears  he  had  sought  it.'  Moreover,  the  citizens 
threatened  to  deal  in  like  manner  with  the  butchers  at  Eastertide, 
unless  they  sold  their  flesh  in  the  shambles  both  courteously  and 
reasonably.  But  the  butchers  hearing  this  did  after  the  Wise 
Man's  counsel '  The  wicked  man  being  scourged,  the  fool  shall  be 
wiser.'  " 

A  similar  quarrel  between  priests  and  people  had  already  had 
much  the  same  issue  (504).  "  In  the  month  of  October  1280  a 
quarrel  arose  between  the  Lord  Guglielmo,  Bishop  of  Reggio, 
with  the  clergy  of  his  city  and  bishopric  on  the  one  part,  and  the 
Lord  Dego,  Captain  of  the  people,  with  the  citizens  of  Reggio 
on  the  other  part.  This  quarrel  was  by  reason  of  the  tithes,  for 
the  clergy  seemed  to  wish  to  collect  too  much  from  the  men  of 
the  people  and  all  the  citizens.  Wherefore  the  Lord  Captain, 
with  the  24  Defenders  of  the  People,  made  certain  statutes  against 
the  lay-collectors  of  the  said  tithes,  by  reason  of  which  statutes 
the  Lord  Bishop  excommunicated  the  aforesaid  Captain  and  24 
Defenders  and  the  whole  Council-General  of  the  people,  and 
therewithal  he  laid  the  whole  city  under  an  interdict.  So  the 
people  were  wroth  at  this,  and  chose  other  25  from  among  them- 
selves, among  whom  were  7  judges  (among  the  aforesaid  24  there 
had  been  4  judges),  and  made  many  other  statutes  against  the 
clergy.  First,  that  none  should  pay  them  any  tithe,  nor  give 
them  counsel,  help,  or  favour,  nor  sit  at  meat  with  them,  nor  stay 
in  their  service,  nor  have  any  dealings  of  trade  with  them,  nor 
dwell  in  their  houses  or  at  their  farms,  nor  give  them  to  eat  or  to 
drink — and  many  other  such  provisions  there  were,  and  a  most 
grievous  penalty  was  laid  upon  the  breach  of  any  one.  Neither 
might  any  man  grind  their  com,  nor  bake  their  bread,  nor  shave 
them,  nor  do  any  service  to  them  :  and  the  aforesaid  Wise  Men 
claimed  of  their  own  authority  to  proclaim,  resolve,  and  ordain  in 
the  aforesaid  matters  according  to  their  own  will  and  pleasure. 


226  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

This  claim  was  afterwards  confirmed  by  the  General  Coimcil  of 
the  People,  and  all  the  aforesaid  laws  were  ratified  and  kept  both 
by  all  the  people  and  by  the  Knights  and  other  chief  men.  So 
by  reason  of  these  laws  many  millers  were  condemned  each  to  a 
fine  of  £50  of  money  of  Reggio,  for  that  they  remained  in  the 
mills  of  the  clergy  against  the  aforesaid  ordinances  beyond  the 
term  fixed  ;  and  many  other  persons  were  condemned  also  ...  In 
the  month  of  November  of  the  same  year  this  matter  of  the 
tithes  was  peaceably  concluded  ...  to  the  effect  that  none  should 
be  compelled  to  pay  tithes  but  according  to  his  own  conscience, 
and  many  other  provisions  which  were  written  in  the  aforesaid 
treaty."^ 


Chapter  XIX. 
Last  Days. 

IT  is  natural  enough  that  the  tone  of  the  old  man's  chronicle 
should  grow  sadder  towards  its  end.  The  year  1285  was 
marked  by  many  tragic  occurrences.  At  Faenza,  hard  by,  a 
noble  was  murdered,  with  his  son,  by  some  cousins  in  whose  house 
they  had  sat  down  to  dinner  :  at  Cesena  Malatesta  of  Kimini 
(the  Mastin  Vecchio  of  Dante,  Inf.  xxvii,  46)  was  nearly  murdered 
by  Taddeo  da  Buonconte,  but  just  managed  to  slip  away,  though 
wounded,  through  the  open  door  of  the  convent  of  the  Austin 
Friars,  where  he  took  sanctuary.  This  same  year  saw  the  death 
of  the  four  sovereigns  who  loomed  largest  on  the  horizon — 
Charles  of  Anjou,  Peter  of  Aragon,  Martin  IV,  and  Philip  the 
Bold  of  France  :  and  our  chronicler  dismisses  them  with  a 
characteristic  epitaph  (600)  "  Note  that  these  four  great  men  of 
whom  I  have  made  mention  were  all  '  stout  hunters  before  the 
Lord,'  (i.e.,  oppressors  of  mankind)  .  .  .  .  .  yet  in  one  and 
the  same  year  they  went  the  way  of  all  flesh.  Whereof  Primas 
hath  written  most  excellently  in  his  treatise  '  Of  this  World's 
Life,'  saying 

'  Oat,  alaa  !  dear  life  on  earth, 
"Why  art  thou  so  rich  in  mirth  ? 
Since  thou  mayst  not  stay  with  me, 
Why  must  I  so  cling  to  thee  ? ' " 

Not  only  was  there  this  public  memento  tnori,  but  Salimbene 
had  also  to  mourn  a  far  nearer  loss — that  of  two  old  friends 
(594).  "  About  the  Feast  of  St.  Lucy  died  Bemabo  di  Regina, 
a  native  of  Reggio,  expiring  suddenly  in  his  bed  without  warn- 
ing of  illness.  He  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  and  his  words 
were  the  joy  of  canons,  cardinals,  and  all  prelates,  with  knights 
and  barons  and  all  who  loved  mirth  ;  for  he  spake  most  excellently 
in  the  French  and  Tuscan  and  Lombard  tongues,  and  in  divers 
other  fashions.  He  could  speak  childishly,  as  children  speak 
with  each  other ;   or  as  women  speak  with  women,  discussing 


228  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

their  own  affairs  in  familiar  speech  with  their  gossips  ;  and  he 
could  imitate  the  fashion  of  address  of  the  ancient  preachers, 
as  they  held  forth  in  the  days  of  the  Alleluia,  when  they  took 
upon  themselves  to  work  miracles,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes 
in  those  days."^  The  other  friend  was  a  lady,  heroine  of  a 
domestic  tragedy  which  recalls  that  of  Pia  de'  Tolomei.  We 
must  go  back  a  little,  with  Salimbene,  to  understand  the  circum- 
stances of  the  family  into  which  she  married. 

Ghiberto  da  Gente,  Podesta  of  Parma  for  many  years,  became 
so  unpopular  that  he  was  finally  driven  from  the  city,  but  kept 
a  country  villa  not  far  off,  at  Campagine.  In  process  of  time, 
however,  his  sons  became  even  more  unpopular  than  the  father  : 
so  that  the  whole  race  was  driven  forth  utterly  by  the  citizens 
in  this  year  1285,  and  their  villa  destroyed.  (606—607).  "For 
thou  must  know  that  Ghiberto  had  a  son  named  Pino,  whose 
wicked  deeds  provoked  the  men  of  Parma  in  many  ways  against 
Ghiberto's  heirs  :  for  first  he  attacked  and  took  Guastalla,  and 
would  have  held  it  in  spite  of  Pai-ma ;  then  he  married  a  wife 
whom  he  afterwards  caused  to  be  murdered  ;  from  which  crime, 
by  God's  providence,  much  evil  came  afterwards  upon  him. 
Now  his  father  Ghiberto  was  at  first  desirous  to  take  this  same 
lady  to  wife,  when  he  dwelt  in  exile  at  Ancona  after  his  expulsion 
from  Parma  :  but  Pinotto  forestalled  his  father  and  secretly 
stole  her  away,  for  greed  of  her  wealth  and  for  the  allurement  of 
her  comeliness.  She  was  called  the  Lady  Beatrice  ;  and  she  had 
much  treasure  and  was  a  comely  lady,  alert  and  merry  and  liberal 
and  courtly  ;  and  she  was  exceeding  well  skilled  in  the  games 
of  chess  and  hazard,*  and  dwelt  with  Pino  her  husband  at 
Bianello,  which  had  once  been  a  castle  of  the  Countess  Matilda. 
Oftentimes  she  would  come  to  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor 
at  Montefalcone  in  the  days  when  1  dwelt  there,  for  the  sake  of 
recreation  and  of  speaking  with  the  Brethren  :  and  she  related 
to  me  in  familiar  converse  that  men  would  have  slain  her  ;  and 
I  knew  of  whom  she  spoke,  and  had  compassion  on  her,  and 
taught  her  that  she  should  confess  her  sins  and  ever  order  her 
life  well,  that  she  might  be  ever  ready  to  meet  death.  In  those 
days  her  husband  Pino  departed  in  great  wrath  against  the  Lord 
Guido  his  cousin,  as  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes,  and  he  took  his 
wife  with  him  to  the  village  of  Correggio,  wherein  he  caused  her 
to  be  smothered  with  a  featherbed  by  a  squire  named  Martinello, 
and  in  that  same  village  she  was  buried ;  and  he  had  by  her 
three  daughters  who  are  most  comely  damsels.  And,  seeing  it  is 
written  that  '  the  soul  of  the  wounded  hath  cried  out,  and  God 
doth  not  suffer  it  to   pass  unrevenged,'  therefore  I  must  say 


Last  Days.  229 

somewhat  of  the  misfortunes  which  befel  her  husband.  First 
he  became  hateful,  not  only  to  the  men  of  Parma,  but  even  to 
his  cousins  and  nephews  ;  secondly  he  was  taken  by  the  ruffians 
of  Sassuolo,  who  took  from  him  for  ransom  his  horses  and  £200 
Imperial :  thirdly,  on  a  time  when  he  would  have  avenged  himself 
by  plundering  a  wayfarer  on  the  highway  leading  to  Parma,  the 
citizens  sent  to  the  village  of  Campagine,  wherein  he  had  his 
possessions,  and  ploughed  up  all  his  crops  and  green  corn,  and 
razed  to  the  ground  fourteen  or  twenty  of  nis  houses  in  the  village : 
fourthly,  the  lady  whom  he  took  to  wife  after  the  murder  of  his 
first  spouse  could  never  be  his  lawful  wife,  since  there  were  many 
hindrances  on  either  side.  She  was  named  the  Lady  Beatrice 
even  as  his  first  wife,  and  was  most  comely,  and  daughter  to  the 
Lord  Jacobino  da  Palude ;  he  espoused  her  in  her  widowhood 
of  her  first  husband  the  Lord  Atto  da  Sesso.  Fifthly  and  lastly, 
once  again  he  took  certain  men  and  cast  them  into  chains  in  his 
dungeons,  and  would  take  no  ransom  for  them,  though  they  had 
never  offended  him  nor  owed  him  any  obedience  :  wherefore  the 
men  of  Parma,  seeing  that  he  was  already  outlawed  and  yet 
ceased  not  from  evil,  cast  forth  both  Pino  and  all  the  heirs  of 
Ghiberto  da  Gente  from  their  village  of  Campagine.  This 
Pinotto  was  named  likewise  the  Lord  Jacobino,  and  was  a  comely 
man  and  of  great  courage,  bold  and  careless,  and  most  haughty, 
as  is  the  manner  of  the  men  of  Parma." 

The  misfortunes  which  Salimbene  so  gladly  records  here  may 
seem  a  light  enough  punishment  for  a  cowardly  murder;  but 
there  was  more  to  follow  in  later  years.  Next  year  the  cousin 
Guido,  whose  conduct  had  occasioned  Pino's  jealousy,  was 
himself  murdered.  (615)  "For  he  was  journeying  from 
Reggio  to  Bianello  with  his  kinswoman,  the  Lady  Giovannina, 
wife  to  his  brother  Bonifazio,  which  brother  followed  without 
attendants  at  a  distance  of  three  miles  ;  and  these  three  had  only 
a  few  hackneys  with  them,  and  they  were  unarmed  and  without 
escort.  The  murderers  of  these  two  brethren  were,  first,  one 
Scarabello  da  Canossa,  who  threw  the  Lord  Guido  from  his  horse 
and  thrust  him  through  with  his  lance  as  he  lay  on  the  ground 
80  that  there  needed  no  second  blow  :  and  secondly,  Azzolino, 
brother  to  the  Abbot  of  Canossa,  and  son  to  the  Lord  Guido  da 
Albareto,  who  smote  off  his  head  :  and  others  there  were,  both 
on  horse  and  on  foot,  who  smote  him  with  many  strokes,  '  and 
tore  him  with  wound  upon  wound.'  So  likewise  they  did  to  his 
brother  Bonifazio  who  followed  hard  on  him.  Then  they  laid 
the  Lady  Giovannina  on  her  horse,  wherefrom  she  had  cast  herself 
to  fall  upon  her  Lord  Guido,  believing  and  hoping  that  they 


230  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

would  spare  him  for  her  sake,  since  she  was  their  kinswomau ; 
and  all  day  she  journeyed  alone  and  groaning  in  the  bitterness 
of  her  heart,  and  came  to  Bianello  ;  and  there  she  told  her  bitter 
tidings.  And  they  that  heard  her  lifted  up  their  voices  and  wept 
most  bitterly,  until  the  fount  of  their  tears  was  dried  up.  And 
all  that  night  the  bodies  of  the  two  brethren  lay  in  that  waste 
and  solitary  spot.  Yet  some  say  that  the  Lord  Manfredino  wus 
moved  to  pity  at  these  tidings,  and  took  men  and  a  waggon,  and 
raised  and  joined  together  the  bodies,  and  laid  them  in  the  church 
of  the  Templars  midway  on  the  road  to  Bianello.  And  next  day 
came  the  men  of  Bianello,  and  carried  off  the  bodies  and  buried 
them  in  their  robes  and  armour  in  the  sepulchre  of  their  fathers, 
in  the  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Montefalcone  ;  and  it  was 
a  Saturday,  whereon  men  sang  for  the  Epistle  at  Mass  those 
words  of  Jeremiah,  '  Let  their  wives  be  bereaved  of  children, 
and  widows.'  And,  for  that  the  Lord  Rolandino  of  Canossa  was 
cousin-german  to  this  Scarabello,  therefore  he  was  accused  before 
the  Podesta  :  (for  Scarabello  himself  had  been  already  banished 
from  Reggio,  nor  would  he  have  appeared  if  he  had  been  cited.) 
Wherefore  the  Lord  Bonifacio,  Podesta  of  Reggio,  sent  for  the 
Lord  Rolandino,  who  came  before  him  with  a  very  great 
multitude  of  armed  men  :  so  when  the  Podesta  had  learned  his 
innocence  in  this  matter  he  suffered  him  to  go  in  peace  and 
unhurt.  Then  the  Lord  Guido  da  Albareto  was  accused,  and 
appeared  and  was  kept  ten  days  in  prison,  and  gently  tortured 
once  only,  and  then  sent  away.  And  while  he  was  being  put  to 
the  torture,  the  men  of  Reggio  thought  they  must  needs  have 
civil  war  for  three  reasons  :  first,  by  reason  of  these  two  brothers 
lately  slain  ;  secondly,  by  reason  of  this  great  lord  who  was  being 
tortured  ;  and  thirdly,  by  reason  of  the  parties  at  Reggio.  (For 
there  were  two  parties,  each  whereof  called  itself,  and  was  indeed, 
of  the  Church  party  :  for  they  of  the  Emperor's  party  had  been 
cast  forth  from  the  city  many  years  since,  and  still  wandered 
homeless  through  the  world.)  But  at  the  beginning,  when  the 
Lord  Guido  was  to  be  put  to  torture,  the  Podesta  besought  him 
to  suffer  it  in  all  patience  for  God's  sake  and  his  own ;  more 
especially '  (he  said)  '  in  that  I  am  unwilling  to  inflict  such  pain, 
but  I  needs  must  do  so,  both  by  reason  of  my  office,  and  by  reason 
of  the  crime  whereof  you  stand  accused.'  So  the  Lord  Guido, 
knowing  that  the  Podesta  did  this  for  the  honour  of  both  parties, 
suffered  patiently  that  which  afore  would  have  been  sour  and 
bitter  to  him  ;  yet  afterwards,  when  he  knew  the  reason,  he  held 
it  pleasant.  And  he  said  to  the  Podesta,  'If  it  be  possible,  let 
this  chalice  pass  from  me.     Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as 


Last  Days.  231 

thou  wilt.'  Yet  there  were  some  who  said  that  the  aforesaid 
Guido  was  spared  all  torment,  with  the  help  of  money,  which 
all  things  obey.  For  his  son  Roland,  Abbot  of  Canossa,  gave 
£100  Imperial  to  the  Lord  Guido  da  Correggio,  and  as  much 
again  to  the  Podesta  of  Reggio  ;  and  by  their  favour  he  escaped 
this  torment.  So  when  it  was  noised  abroad  that  he  should  be 
tortured,  the  Podesta  would  suffer  none  to  be  there  with  him  but 
himself  alone ;  and  then  he  caused  him  to  sit  awhile  on  a  great 
balance  for  weighing  flour,  and  spake  familiarly  with  him  of  all 
these  things  which  had  befallen.  So  when  he  was  come  down 
from  this  instrument  of  torture'  and  lay  in  bed,  he  sent  for  his 
brother  Jaoopo  da  Palude  and  told  him  all  that  he  had  suffered 
in  his  torture  :  then  he  came  down  from  the  palace  and  went  to 
the  house  of  the  Lord  Rolandino  of  Canossa,  which  was  hard  by 
the  piazza ;  and  there  he  dwelt  at  his  ease,  eating  and  drinking 
and  merrymaking  the  whole  day  long.  Yet  before,  when  he 
came  down  from  the  Palazzo  Commimale,  he  had  caused  himself 
to  be  upheld  by  two  men,  one  on  either  side,  as  desiring  thereby 
to  show  that  he  had  been  grievously  tortured  by  the  Podesta. 
But  the  Lord  saith  '  There  is  nothing  covered  that  shall  not  be 
revealed.'  Moreover,  concerning  this  Lord  Guido  da  Albereto, 
it  was  told  me  by  his  son  the  Abbot  of  Canossa,  speaking 
familiarly  with  me  hard  by  the  gate  of  the  town  of^  Gesso, 
that  five  years  before  his  father  suffered  this  mishap,  he  himself 
had  enquired  of  a  certain  diviner  of  that  which  should  befal  his 
father ;  whereupon  the  diviner  showed  him  a  book  wherein  was 
written  '  He  shall  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  judge  : '  as  indeed 
came  to  pass.  Whereby  we  see  that  not  only  prophets  foretell 
the  future,  but  even  sometimes  demons  and  sinful  men  ;  yet 
the  righteous  foretell  it  better  than  they,  as  I  may  be  able  to 
show  next  year,  if  life  be  spared  me.  .  .  . 

(617)  "jNow  this  Lord  Guido  da  Bianello  who  was  thus 
murdered  was  a  comely  man,  and  learned,  and  of  great  discern- 
ment and  memory,  and  ready  speech,  and  eloquence,  sprightly 
and  jocund  and  free  and  liberal,  and  of  most  familiar  and  pleasant 
company,  and  a  lover  and  a  great  benefactor  of  the  Friars  Minor. 
For  the  Friars  Minor  had  a  convent  on  his  lands,  in  the  wood  at 
the  foot  of  Montefalcone,  where  he  also  was  buried  with  his 
brother  in  the  sepulchre  of  their  fathers,  as  I  have  said  above  : 
God  of  His  mercy  grant  that  his  soul  may  rest  in  peace,  if  so  it 
may  be.  Amen.  For  while  he  lived  he  was  an  exceeding  good 
friend  to  me  and  to  Guido  di  Adamo,  my  brother  in  the  flesh  and 
in  Religion,  who  likewise  died  and  was  buried  at  Montefalcone. 
Yet  this  Lord  Guido  was  held  to  be  a  man  of  malice  by  them 


232  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

that  loved  him  not ;  and  they  accused  him  of  many  wicked- 
nesses ;  that  is,  that  he  was  a  slanderer  and  defamer  of  God's 
servants.  And  that  is  ever  the  wont  of  carnal  men,  gladly  to 
defame  God's  servants,  for  they  think  themselves  excused  of 
their  own  sins  if  they  may  have  holy  men  to  bear  them  company. 
Moreover,  men  accused  him  that  he  was  wont  to  say  '  If  I  am 
predestined  to  eternal  life,  then  shall  I  come  thereto,  whatsoever 
may  be  my  sins  ;  and  if  I  am  predestined  to  eternal  damnation, 
so  shall  it  be  likewise,  in  spite  of  all  good  deeds.'  In  proof 
whereof  he  would  bring  forward  that  which  is  written  '  Whosoever 
shall  seek  to  save  his  life,  shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  shall  lose 
it,  shall  preserve  it.'  And  such  was  his  folly  that,  howsoever 
either  I  or  other  Brethren  and  friends  of  his  might  warn  him  to 
look  to  his  ways,  he  scorned  to  hear  us  and  would  only  answer, 
*  It  is  written,  "  He  that  is  hasty  to  give  credit,  is  light  of  heart, 
and  shall  be  lessened."  '  Yet  I  would  answer  against  him  (for 
he  was  most  learned  in  the  Bible)  saying  '  The  Wise  Man  saith 
"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  is  always  fearful."  '  And,  as  aforesaid, 
he  would  not  hear  me,  but  ever  shook  his  head  as  though  he 
scorned  all  that  I  spake  to  him.  So  I  said  to  him,  '  It  is  written 
in  the  Proverbs  "  The  way  of  a  fool  is  right  in  his  own  eyes  :  but 
he  that  is  wise  hearkeneth  unto  counsels."  '  Yet  when  I  had 
thus  spoken,  adding,  '  I  have  said  to  thee  all  that  in  me  lieth,' 
then  answered  he  and  said  *  Ecclesiasticus  saith  "  There  are 
many  words  that  have  much  vanity  in  disputing.'  "  .  .  .  .  Here 
five  sheets  have  been  torn  out  of  the  MS.,  no  doubt  as  having 
scandalized  some  reader.  This  fatalistic  infidelity,  as  will  be 
seen  below,  was  common  among  the  upper  classes  in  the  Middle 
Ages. 

The  feud  broke  out  again ;  and  the  Monk  of  Canossa  made  a 
murderous  incursion  into  the  city  of  Reggio,  as  above  recorded, 
in  revenge  for  the  death  of  his  kinsman.  But  the  final  vengeance 
only  came  in  1287  (638),  when  "on  the  17th  day  of  May  was 
slain  Piuotto,  son  of  the  Lord  Ghiberto  da  Gente,  in  his  villa  of 
Campagine,  by  his  nephews  Ghibertino  and  Guglielmo.  The 
cause  of  this  murder  was  a  certain  mill,  for  the  possession  of 
which  each  party  contended — nay,  what  is  worse,  he  was  slain 
for  the  sake  of  a  pinza  or  small  tongue  of  land  behind  the  mill. 
But  many  days  and  years  before  this  he  had  exchanged  words 
of  discord  and  contention  with  them  and  with  their  father ; 
wherefore  they  came  with  certain  evil  doers  and  hired  murderers 
and  fell  upon  him  with  clubs  and  other  weapons,  and  slew  him. 
And  note  here  three  judgments  of  God.  First,  that  all  who  were 
consenting  and  privy  to  the  death  of  Pinotto's  wife,  the  Lady 


Last  Days.  233 

Beatrice  of  Apulia,  were  slain  themselves  also  within  a  brief 
space  :  the  first  of  whom  was  Pinotto  himself ;  then  the  Lord 
Guido  da  Bianello.  For  the  Lord  Guido  had  given  Pinotto 
cause  for  her  death,  since  he  would  have  lain  with  her,  but  she 
utterly  spurned  such  a  temptation,  not  only  for  the  crime  of 
adultery,  but  also  for  that  Pinotto  and  Guido  were  cousins- 
german.  The  third  was  one  Martinello,  who  smothered  her  one 
night  with  a  featherbed  in  the  villa  of  Correggio.  The  second 
judgment  of  God  is  that  thivS  same  Martinello  was  not  only  present 
at  the  murder  of  Pinotto  (whose  wife  he  had  already  slain  at 
his  bidding)  but  also,  being  wounded  at  the  siege  of  Montecalvolo, 
returned  home,  and  there  met  his  death  by  his  own  wife's 
treachery,  whereof  he  was  ignorant.  The  third  marvellous 
judgment  of  God  is  that,  if  strangers  had  slain  Pinotto,  instead 
of  his  nephew,  then  those  same  nephews  would  have  avenged 
his  death  for  the  honour  of  their  house,  and  according  to  the 
vainglorious  custom  of  worldly  men."^ 

This,  then,  was  a  sad  year  for  our  sociable  friar ;  and  his 
melancholy  finds  expression  in  the  last  words  he  wrote  under 
this  date.  He  has  been  speaking  of  certain  noble  families  which 
he  remembered  in  Parma,  and  of  Friars  who  lived  in  the  earlier 
heroic  days  of  the  Order  ;  and  he  goes  on  (1286 — 366)  "  I  have 
written  these  matters  aforesaid,  for  that  I  have  seen  and  known 
wellnigh  all  these  men  whereof  I  have  spoken  ;  and  quickly, 
as  in  a  brief  space,  they  have  passed  from  this  life  into  another. 
If  more  noteworthy  deeds  were  done  in  this  year  1285  I  remember 
them  not.  I  have  written  the  aforesaid  in  good  faith,  with  truth 
for  my  guide,  even  as  I  saw  each  thing  with  mine  own  eyes. 
Here  endeth  the  year  1285  :  and  here  followeth  the  year  which 
is  to  come." 

Our  chronicler's  forebodings  of  evil  were  soon  justified  :  for 
the  year  1286  was  not  only  destined  to  bring  fightings  and  fears 
to  Reggio,  but  was  big  from  the  first  with  those  small  troubles 
of  life  which  are  not  always  the  most  tolerable.  "  This  year 
was  a  disordered  wintertide,  for  all  ancient  saws  were  found  false 
except  one  which  men  commonly  say,  *  February  brief,  yet  most 
fulfilled  of  grief.'  Which  proverb  was  most  plentifully  fulfilled 
this  year,  above  all  that  I  have  seen  in  all  the  days  of  my  life  : 
for  seven  times  this  February  did  God  *  give  snow  like  wool  ; ' 
and  there  was  a  mighty  cold  and  frost.  And  many  blains  and 
boils  were  engendered  both  in  men  and  in  hens,  which  afterwards 
broke  out  openly.  For  in  Cremona  and  Piacenza  and  Parma 
and  Reggio  and  many  other  cities  and  Bishoprics  of  Italy  there 
were  very  many  deaths  both  among  men  and  among  hens ;  and 


234  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

in  the  city  of  Cremona  a  single  woman  lost,  within  a  brief  space, 
forty-eight  hens ;  and  a  certain  doctor  of  medicine  caused  some 
to  be  opened,  and  found  on  the  tip  of  the  heart  of  each  hen  a  boil 
like  unto  a  small  bladder ;  he  caused  a  dead  man  to  be  opened 
likewise,  on  whose  heart  he  found  the  same.  In  those  days,  in 
the  month  of  May,  Master  John  the  Leech,  who  dwelt  at  Venice 
and  had  a  stipend  from  the  city,  sent  a  letter  to  his  fellow  citizens 
of  Reggio,  warning  them  to  eat  neither  potherbs,  nor  eggs,  nor 
hens'  flesh  throughout  the  month  of  May :  wherefore  a  hen  was 
sold  in  those  days  for  five  small  pence.  Yet  certain  wise  women 
fed  their  hens  with  pounded  rue  mingled  with  bran  or  meal ;  by 
the  virtue  of  which  antidote  they  were  liberated  and  escaped 
death."  Then,  when  a  bright  spring  sunshine  had  tempted 
the  almonds  and  all  the  other  fruit  trees  into  their  richest  blossom, 
a  sudden  frost  cut  off  all  the  hope  of  the  orchards  for  that  year, 
and  men  were  but  half  consoled  even  by  the  plenty  of  corn  and 
oil  and  wine  which  followed. 

Moreover,  it  was  a  bad  year  for  the  Franciscan  Order,  and 
therefore  for  Salimbene,  than  whom  the  Order  had  no  more 
convinced  champion.  Pope  Honorius  very  nearly  decided  a 
quarrel  between  "  certain  prelates  "  and  the  Friars  in  favour  of 
the  former,  and  would  certainly  have  done  so  but  for  his 
providential  removal  from  this  world  in  the  very  nick  of  time, 
in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  the  Brethren  (see  chap,  xxi  below). 
Again,  the  Franciscans  were  boycotted  by  their  old  allies  the 
Cistercians,  whom  the  friars  had  at  last  alarmed  by  their  enor- 
mous growth  and  (it  must  frankly  be  confessed)  their  continual 
pious  encroachments  (623).  "A  certain  Friar  Minor  left  our 
Order  to  enter  that  of  the  Cistercians,  and  he  bore  himself  so  well 
among  them  that  they  made  him  Abbot  of  a  great  monastery. 
Then  the  Friars,  having  a  zeal  of  God,  but  not  according  to 
knowledge  on  this  occasion,  fearing  moreover  lest  others  might 
leave  our  Order  after  the  example  of  this  brother,  took  him  and 
brought  him  back  into  his  past  Order  and  fed  him  with  the  bread 
of  affliction  and  water  of  distress.  The  Cistercians  hearing  this 
were  greatly  troubled  and  incensed  against  the  Friars,  and  this 
for  five  several  reasons.  First,  for  that  they  punished  so  sorely 
a  man  who  deserved  no  punishment.  Secondly,  for  that  he  had 
already  been  released  from  our  Order.  Thirdly,  for  that  tbey 
took  him  clad  in  his  own  Cistercian  habit.  Fourthly,  for  that 
he  had  a  great  prelacy  in  their  Order,  being  an  Abbot.  Fifthly, 
for  that  he  had  borne  himself  so  excellently  in  their  Order,  as  to 
his  life  and  good  manners,  as  to  be  acceptable  and  gracious  to 
all  men.     Brother  Bonagrazia,  when  he  was  Minister  Provincial 


Last  Days.  235 

of  Bologna,  had  a  like  quarrel  with  the  Abbey  of  Nonantola. 
For  a  certain  brother  Guidolino  of  Ferrara  left  our  Order  and 
entered  among  the  Black  Monks  of  St.  Benedict,  where  he  bore 
himself  so  well  and  laudably  in  the  Abbey  of  Nonantola  that  he 
was  beloved  by  all,  and  they  chose  him  for  Abbot.'  Wherefore 
the  Friars  had  a  great  altercation  with  those  monks  before  the 
Lord  Giovanni  Gaietano,  who  was  then  Protector  of  our  Order 
and  who  after  was  Pope  Nicholas  III ;  and  the  Friars  with  much 
violence  obtained  their  desire  that  he  should  not  be  Abbot  ;  yet 
the  said  monks  spent  £10,000  Imperial  that  they  might  have 
him  for  their  Abbot.  And  finding  that  they  laboured  in  vain  to 
procure  his  election,  they  chose  no  other  in  his  room,  but  made 
him  lord  of  their  Abbey  as  though  he  were  their  true  Abbot. 
See  now  how  those  monks  loved  him  !  Yet  he  was  like  Joseph 
of  old,  nor  would  he  return  evil  for  evil  unto  his  brethren,  though 
he  had  it  in  his  power  and  opportunity  :  nay,  rather  he  studied 
to  do  them  good.  For  he  saw  and  welcomed  our  Brethren  at 
Nonantola  as  angels  from  Heaven,  and  prayed  them  to  keep 
two  copyists  always  there  at  the  expense  of  the  Abbey,  that  they 
might  copy  to  their  fill  the  original  writings  whereof  it  had  great 
plenty.  This  Brother  Guidolino  was  my  close  friend  when  we 
dwelt  together  in  the  convent  of  Ravenna.  And  note  that  the 
Friars  Minor  obtained  of  Pope  Nicholas  IV"  (who  was  of  their 
own  Order)  the  privilege  that  none  who  left  their  Order  should 
ever  be  promoted  to  any  prelacy  in  another  Order."  It  is 
obvious  how  often  such  a  privilege  must  have  roused  the 
indignation  of  the  older  foundations,  already  too  often  jealous  of 
the  rapid  growth  of  the  Friars.  The  Cistercian  quarrel,  however, 
was  settled  by  the  personal  intervention  of  the  Emperor  Rudolf 
of  Hapsburg,  who  loved  both  Orders  alike. 

The  events  of  these  last  years  were  indeed  a  few  degrees  less 
barbarous  than  what  Salimbene  had  seen  in  his  youth  at  the 
siege  of  Parma,  and  later  on  during  the  civil  wars  of  Romagna  : 
but  his  mind  had  lost  something  of  its  elasticity,  and  it  now 
seemed  to  him  that  the  foundations  of  the  earth  were  out  of 
course.  He  was  out  of  sympathy  even  with  the  democratic 
movement  of  the  century  which  the  Friars,  directly  or  indirectly, 
had  done  so  much  to  promote.  (1287 — 391)  "  In  these  days 
the  Commonalty  of  Bologna  made  heavy  statutes  against  their 
knights  and  all  the  nobles  of  their  city,  namely  that  whosoever 
of  the  knights  or  nobles  should  wrong  a  man  of  the  people's 
guilds,  that  man  should  be  so  spoiled  both  in  his  villages  and 
in  the  city,  in  his  houses  and  fields  and  trees,  that  of  all  his 
possessions  not  one  stone  should  be  left  on  another.     And  the 


236  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

first  to  fall  under  this  curse  were  the  sons  of  the  Lord  Niccolo 
de'  Bazeleri,  who  were  utterly  despoiled  by  the  people  :  wherefore 
the  knightly  families  of  Bologna  fear  now  to  live  in  the  city,  for 
the  onslaughts  of  the  furious  Commonalty  :  and,  like  the  French, 
they  dwell  now  on  their  country  estates  :  wherefore  the  common 
folk,  who  live  in  the  city,  may  well  be  called  henceforth  the 
bourgeois,  as  in  France.  But  let  the  Commonalty  dread  lest 
God's  wrath  come  upon  them,  for  they  do  against  the  Scripture 
(Levit.  xix,  15).  Moreover  the  men  of  the  people  and  country 
folk  are  they  through  whom  the  world  is  ruined,  but  through 
knights  and  nobles  it  is  saved.  For  Patecchio  saith  in  his  Book  of 
Pests 

"  £t  quando  de  sola  fit  tomera,  etc.," 

which  is  to  say,  that  it  is  a  pest  when  that  is  exalted  which  should 
be  lowly.  Remember  the  example  of  the  butchers  of  Cremona, 
one  of  whom  had  a  great  dog  who  bore  patiently  many  insults 
from  another  butcher's  small  dog ;  but  when  the  other  would 
not  cease  from  his  accustomed  insolence,  being  at  last  provoked 
beyond  measure,  he  caught  him  by  the  throat  and  drowned  him 
in  the  Po.  And  so  are  many  in  this  world,  who  if  they  lived  in 
peace  would  be  hurt  by  no  man ;  but  because  they  go  about 
seeking  quarrels  of  set  purpose,  therefore  they  find  them.  That 
same  year  the  men  of  Bologna  banished  many  of  their  fellow 
citizens  to  dwell  in  exile  in  divers  cities  :  and  this  was  done  by 
the  Commonalty,  who  had  gained  the  mastery  over  the  knights. 
And  note  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  speak  of  the  dominion  of 
certain  persons  as  most  mischievous ;  that  is,  of  women, 
children,  servants,  and  fools ;  also  of  enemies  and  worthless 
persons." 

He  was  evidently  weary  of  politics :  for,  after  a  brief  notice 
of  the  faction  fights  at  Parma  between  Guido  Correggio  and  the 
Bishop,  he  adds  (398)  :  "And  men  spake  of  these  things  with 
praise  or  reviling  according  to  their  love  or  their  hate.  But  the 
blessed  Augustine  saith  that  we  should  care  little  for  men's 
judgment,  giving  for  his  reason  that  '  neither  can  injustice  damn 
a  man,  nor  false  praise  crown  him.'  " 

But,  looking  at  the  wars  beyond  his  own  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, the  good  friar  chronicles  an  event  in  which  he  evidently 
took  a  personal  interest  of  the  liveliest  sort.  In  these,  the  last 
words  that  he  wrote,  readers  of  Dante  will  recognize  something 
more  than  mere  aversion  to  the  foreigner  as  a  foreigner :  some- 
thing of  that  filial  compassion  for  Mother  Italy  which,  even  in 
those  minds  in  which  party  politics  came  foremost,  necessarily 


Last  Days.  237 

implied  a  hatred  of  the  French.  Salimbene  had  lived  in  France 
and  made  friends  there  ;  his  own  Guelfs  owed  their  triumph  in 
the  peninsula  mainlj  to  a  French  prince,  Charles  of  Anjou ; 
but  the  foreigner  could  bring  no  lasting  peace  to  Italj.  On  the 
contrary,  his  very  presence  implied,  and  tended  to  perpetuate, 
the  discords  which  had  made  her  a  mere  "hostelry  01  pain." 
The  Frenchman  in  Italy,  like  our  own  Henry  Y  and  Bedford 
in  France,  was  inevitably  hated  even  by  the  party  to  whose 
political  purposes  he  directly  ministered  :  and  Salimbene,  who 
had  so  little  sympathy  with  the  political  ambitions  of  the  Popes, 
had  naturally  still  less  with  the  foreigners  who  had  been  imported 
to  serve  those  ambitions.  These  concluding  words  of  his 
chronicle  form  an  admirable  commentary  on  the  striking  fact 
that,  to  Dante,  St.  Louis  himself  is  not  the  hero  which  even 
modern  Protestants  and  freethinkers  see  in  him,  but  simply  the 
somewhat  despicable  brother  of  the  hated  Charles  of  Anjou.^ 

"  Moreover,  in  this  year  1287,  many  French  ships  were  sunken 
in  the  sea  beyond  Naples  by  the  fleet  of  Peter  of  Aragon.  And 
many  of  King  Charles'  fleet  who  had  survived  the  fight,  common 
folk  and  knights,  nobles  and  barons,  were  blinded  by  their  captors. 
Which  vengeance  was  just  and  merited,  for  they  are  most  proud 
and  foolish,  an  accursed  folk  who  despise  almost  all  other  peoples 
of  the  world ;  and  especially  do  they  scorn  the  English  and  the 
Lombards  (under  which  term  they  include  all  Italians  and  all  on 
this  side  of  the  Alps) :  whereas  in  truth  it  is  they  who  are 
despicable  and  scorned  of  all  men.  For  to  them  we  may  apply 
that  which  is  said  in  the  trutannic  verse  of  Trutannus 

The  Vagrant  with  his  pot  of  wine,  warm  in  an  ingle-nook, 

Will  deem  the  wealthiest  Eastern  King  scarce  fit  to  be  his  cook.7 

For  when  Frenchmen  have  well  drunken,  then  they  think  to 
beat  down  and  conquer  the  whole  world  at  one  blow.  But  they 
are  deceived*  ....  therefore  the  French  are  proud  beyond 
measure.  And  they  afflicted  the  Kingdom  of  Naples,  and 
Tuscany,  and  the  Lombards  dwelling  in  the  kingdom  of 
Apulia,  and  took  from  them  their  victuals  without  money 
and  without  price — com  and  wine  and  milk,  fish  and  flesh, 
capons  and  geese  and  hens  and  whatsoever  they  found  fit  for 
food.  Nor  was  it  enough  that  they  gave  no  payment ;  but  they 
beat  men  also  and  wounded  them  grievously.  A  man  of  Parma 
had  a  most  fair  wife  ;  and  when  she  asked  or  a  certain  Frenchman 

*  On  this  last  page  of  the  MS.  a  few  words  here  and  there  are  entirely  illegible. 


238  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  price  of  the  geese  which  she  had  sold  him,  not  only  did  he 
refuse  her  all  payment,  but  he  wounded  her  grievously,  with  so 
sore  a  stroke  tnat  no  second  was  needed ;  and  yet  he  asked  of 
her  '  Wilt  thou  that  I  smite  thee  again  ?  '  Her  husband  hearing 
this  quaked  with  indignation ;  and  herein  was  no  marvel :  for 
whereas  aforetime  she  had  been  most  perfect  in  beauty,  now  all 
the  rest  of  her  life  she  halted  in  her  gait  by  reason  of  that  stroke. 
Wherefore  I  say  that  the  rule  of  the  French  hath  ever  been  most 
foul  and  cruel,  and  it  is  just  that  mishap  should  fall  upon  them 
and  that  they  should  be  destroyed.  Moreover  in  that  same 
year  the  men  of  the  ancient  party  of  the  Emperor  Frederick, 
seeing  that  they  could  neither  take  by  force  nor  hold  Reggio  nor 

Modena,  went  then  and  seized "     With  these  words  the 

present  manuscript  breaks  off,  though,  as  we  know  from  the 
author's  own  headline  to  fol.  356  (p.  590),  there  once  existed 
more  of  it,  in  which  he  treated  again  of  civil  wars  under  the  two 
texts  "  Mistrust  thine  enemy  for  ever  and  ever  "  and  "  Bring  not 
every  man  into  thine  house"  (Eccles.  xii,  10  and  xi,  31).  The 
good  friar,  as  we  have  seen,  probably  died  either  towards  the 
end  of  1288  or  not  long  afterwards. 


Chapter  XX. 
The  Princes  of  the  World. 

WITH  these  last  words  of  his  chronicle  Salimbene  the  man 
disappears  suddenly  and  finally  from  our  sight.  But 
his  outlook  on  the  Italy  of  St.  Francis  and  Dante  is  more  in- 
teresting even  than  his  personality  :  and  many  of  his  anecdotes, 
omitted  hitherto  as  bearing  only  remotely  on  his  life,  are 
of  extreme  importance  for  the  light  they  throw  on  contemporary 
society.  I  will  therefore  summarize  these  briefly  here,  with 
only  such  outside  illustrations  as  are  «trictly  necessary  to  give 
them  their  full  significance. 

I  must  begin  by  repeating  that  our  author's  love  of  small 
details  and  his  familiar  style  have  blinded  some  critics  to  his 
true  authority  as  a  chronicler.  Miss  Macdonell,  for  instance, 
complains  that  "the  solemnity  with  which  his  judgments  on 
men  are  received,  is  absurd  :  "  but  it  is  abundantly  evident  that, 
apart  from  her  frequent  failure  to  understand  Salimbene's  own 
words,  she  lacks  the  knowledge  of  other  contemporary  authorities 
which  is  necessary  to  form  a  sound  opinion  on  this  subject.  It 
is  natural  enough  that  his  lively  style  should  at  first  sight  suggest 
doubts  of  his  accuracy.  Yet,  on  comparing  him  closely  with 
the  most  valuable  of  his  contemporaries — distinguished  Church- 
men who  wrote  under  a  strong  sense  of  responsibility — we  find 
that  his  judgments  on  the  principal  figures  and  institutions  of 
his  time  coincide  in  the  main  with  theirs.  St.  Bonaventura, 
Roger  Bacon,  Adam  Marsh,  Bishop  Thomas  of  Chantimpre, 
Caesarius  the  novice-master  of  Heisterbach,  have  penned  sadder 
words  on  the  whole  than  Salimbene.  The  private  Register  of 
Archbishop  Eudes  Rigaud,  like  many  other  strictly  official 
documents,  bears  the  same  testimony.  Joinville,  if  we  read 
him  carefully  from  end  to  end,  gives  us  an  equally  sad  impression 
of  the  past,  and  equal  hope,  by  comparison,  for  our  own  much- 
abused  age.  Salimbene  is  not  less  trustworthy  as  a  historian 
for  being  instinct  to  his  finger-tips  with  that  life  which  most 
medieval  chroniclers  so  sadly  lack  :  and  indeed  his  most  startling 


240  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

pictures  are  corroborated  by  independent  witnesses  from  his  own 
and  the  next  two  centuries. 

There  is  enough  in  Salimbene's  more  strictly  autobiographical 
pages  to  show  the  general  reader  as  much  as  he  needs  to  realize 
nowadays  of  those  barbarous  and  incessant  wars  which  made 
Italy  so  miserable  not  only  in  Dante's  day,  but  for  generations 
before  and  after  him.  Moreover,  Salimbene's  judgments  show  us 
how  little  respect  sober  men  often  felt  for  the  leaders  on  either 
side — for  the  Emperor  and  his  princes  or  the  Pope  and  his 
Legates.  He  could  not  help  seeing  some  good  both  in  Frederick 
and  in  Manfred,  as  he  frankly  confesses :  but  in  his  youthful 
days  of  Joachism  he  had  looked  upon  Frederick  as  Antichrist 
(174),  though  in  later  life  he  thought  this  somewhat  exaggerated. 
(362).  Still,  he  always  felt  a  mystery  of  evil  about  him,  both 
in  his  birth  and  in  his  death  :  though  his  silence  shows  that 
Villani's  and  Dante's  legends  on  both  these  subjects  are  of  later 
growth  than  his  day.  To  Salimbene,  Costanza  was  simply  a 
fcmme  incomprise :  and  his  version  of  her  marriage  is  more  con- 
sonant with  known  facts  than  Villani's.  (358)  "  King  William 
of  Sicily  on  his  deathbed  bade  his  sons,  I  know  not  wherefore, 
never  to  marry  their  sister  Costanza :  wherefore  they  kept  her 
by  them  until  the  30th  year  of  her  age.  But  she  was  a  froward 
woman,  and  troubled  her  brothers'  wives  and  their  whole  house- 
hold. So,  considering  that  the  Wise  Man  said  truly,  '  It  is  better 
to  sit  in  a  corner  of  the  housetop,  than  with  a  brawling  woman 
and  in  a  common  house,'  they  said  among  themselves,  '  Let  us 
marry  our  sister  and  put  her  far  away  from  us.'  "  Although 
Costanza  was  20  years  younger  at  her  marriage  than  Villani 
imagined,  and  only  40  when  Frederick  was  born,  yet  already  in 
Salimbene's  day  his  enemies  believed  him  a  supposititious  child. 
(43)  "Now  Frederick  was  born  at  Jesi ;  and  it  was  noised 
abroad  concerning  him  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  baker  in  that 
city,  for  the  Empress  Constance  was  aged  and  advanced  in  years 
{multorum  erat  dierum  et  multum  annosd]  when  she  espoused  the 
Emperor  Henry  ;  nor  is  she  said  to  have  had  any  son  or  daughter 
but  this  one  ;  wherefore  it  was  said  that  she  took  him  from  his 
father  (having  first  feigned  herself  great  with  child)  and  took 
him  to  herself  that  she  might  be  thought  to  have  brought  him 
forth :  which  I  am  led  to  believe  by  three  things.  First,  that 
women  are  indeed  wont  to  do  thus,  as  I  remember  oft-times  to 
have  found.  Secondly,  that  Merlin  wrote  of  him  '  The  second 
Frederick  [shall  be]  of  marvellous  and  unhoped-for  birth ' ;  thirdly, 
that  King  John  [of  Brienne],  who  was  King  of  Jerusalem  and 
father-in-law  to  the  Emperor,  one  day  with  wrathful  soul  and 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  241 

frowning  brow  called  the  Emperor  in  his  own  French  speech  the 
son  of  a  butcher,  since  he  would  fain  have  slain  his  kinsman 
Grualterotto.  And  because  the  Emperor  could  not  compass  his 
Avish  with  poison,  therefore  it  was  to  be  done  with  the  edge  of 
the  sword,  while  thej  sat  together  at  a  game  of  chess  :  for  the 
Emperor  feared  lest  bj  some  chance  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem 
[or  rather  of  Sicily]  should  fall  to  Gualterotto.  But  these  things 
were  not  hidden  from  King  John,  who  went  and  caught  his 
nephew  by  the  arm  as  he  played  with  the  Emperor,  and  withdrew 
him  from  the  game  and  reproached  the  Emperor  bitterly  in  his 
own  French  tongue,  saying  :  '  Devil  !  son  of  a  butcher ! '  For 
King  John  was  tall  and  stout  and  of  great  stature,  strong  and 
brave  and  skilled  in  war,  so  that  he  might  seem  a  second  Charle- 
magne :  and  when  with  his  mace  he  smote  on  every  side  in  battle, 
then  the  Saracens  fled  from  before  his  face  as  though  they  had 
seen  the  devil,  or  a  lion  ready  to  devour  them.  Wherefore  con- 
cerning him  and  Master  Alexander  [of  Hales],  who  was  the  most 
learned  man  in  the  world  and  was  of  our  Order  and  taught  at 
Paris, — in  their  praise  (I  say)  a  song  was  made  half  in  French 
and  half  in  Latin,  which  I  have  oft-times  sung  :  and  it  began 

Avent  tutt  mantenent 
Nostris  florent  temporibus. 

This  King  John,  while  he  was  being  armed  by  his  servants  for 
battle,  would  tremble  as  a  rush  quakes  in  the  water.  And  when 
they  asked  him  wherefore  he  thus  trembled,  since  he  was  a  stout 
and  mighty  fighter  against  his  enemies  in  battle,  then  he  would 
answer  that  he  cared  not  for  his  body,  but  feared  lest  his  soul 
were  not  well  with  God.  This  is  as  the  Wise  Man  saith  [Prov. 
xxviii.  14,  and  Ecclus.  xviii.  27]  :  moreover  St.  Jerome  saith 
"  it  is  prudent  to  fear  whatsoever  may  come  to  pass  "  .  .  .  . 
When  this  King  John  went  into  battle  and  was  heated  in  fight, 
none  durst  stand  before  his  face,  but  they  turned  aside  when  they 
saw  him,  for  he  was  a  brave  and  mighty  warrior."  The  chron- 
icler Pipinus,  as  I  have  already  noted,  gives  another  cause  of 
Suarrel  between  John  and  Frederick  :  but  there  is  no  reason  to 
oubt  that  both  are  true. 

To  Salimbene,  as  to  Dante,  Frederick  was  a  man  of  heroic 
proportions  in  his  very  sins.  (348)  "  Of  faith  in  God  he  had 
none  ;  he  was  crafty,  wily,  avaricious,  lustful,  malicious,  wrath- 
ful ;  and  yet  a  gallant  man  at  times,  when  he  would  show  his 
kindness  or  courtesy  ;  full  of  solace,  jocund,  delightful,  fertile 
in  devices.     He  knew  to  read,  write,  and  sing,  and  to  make  songs 


242  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  music.  He  was  a  comely  man,  and  well-formed,  but  of 
middle  stature.  I  have  seen  him,  and  once  I  loved  him,  for  on 
mj  behalf  he  wrote  to  Brother  Elias,  Minister-General  of  the 
Friars  Minor,  to  send  me  back  to  my  father.  Moreover,  he  knew 
to  speak  with  many  and  varied  tongues,  and,  to  be  brief,  if  he 
had  been  rightly  Catholic,  and  had  loved  God  and  His  Church, 
he  would  have  had  few  emperors  his  equals  in  the  world."  He 
goes  on  to  enumerate  several  specimens  of  the  Emperor's 
"  curiosities  "  or  "  excesses,"  though  for  sheer  weariness  he  will 
not  tell  them  all.  Frederick  cut  off  a  notary's  thumb  who  had 
spelt  his  name  Fredericus  instead  of  Fridericus.  Like  Psam- 
metichus  in  Herodotus,  he  made  linguistic  experiments  on  the 
vile  bodies  of  hapless  infants,  "bidding  foster-mothers  and 
nurses  to  suckle  and  bathe  and  wash  the  children,  but  in  no  wise 
to  prattle  or  speak  with  them ;  for  he  would  have  learnt  whether 
they  would  speak  the  Hebrew  language  (which  had  been  the 
first),  or  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  Arabic,  or  perchance  the  tongue  of 
their  parents  of  whom  they  had  been  born.  But  he  laboured  in 
vain,  for  the  children  could  not  live  without  clappings  of  the 
hands,  and  gestures,  and  gladness  of  countenance,  and  blandish- 
ments." Again,  "  when  he  saw  the  Holy  Laud,  (which  God 
had  so  oft-times  commended  as  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and 
honey  and  most  excellent  above  all  lands,)  it  pleased  him  not, 
and  he  said  that  if  the  God  of  the  Jews  had  seen  his  lands  of 
Terra  di  Lavoro,  Calabria,  Sicily,  and  Apulia,  then  He  would 
not  so  have  commended  the  land  which  He  promised  to  the  Jews. 
But  Ecclesiasticus  saith  :  '  Speak  nothing  rashly,  nor  let  thy 
heart  be  swift  to  utter  thy  speech  before  God  :  for  God  is  in  the 
heaven,  and  thou  upon  earth ;  wherefore  let  thy  words  be  few.' 
Take  an  example  of  that  clerk  who  uttered  against  God  such 
words  as  should  not  have  been  said  :  wherefore  he  was  smitten 
forthwith  by  a  thunderbolt  from  heaven,  and  fell  dead.  His 
fourth  excess  was  that  he  oft-times  sent  one  Nicholas  against  his 
will  to  the  bottom  of  the  Faro,  and  oft-times  he  returned  thence  ; 
and,  wishing  to  know  in  sooth  whether  he  had  indeed  gone  down 
to  the  bottom  and  returned  thence,  he  threw  in  his  golden  cup 
where  he  thought  the  depth  was  greatest.  So  Nicholas  plunged 
and  found  it  and  brought  it  back,  whereat  the  Emperor  marvelled. 
But  when  he  would  have  sent  him  again,  he  said  :  '  Send  me  not 
thither,  I  pray  you ;  for  the  sea  is  so  troubled  in  the  depth  that, 
if  ye  send  me,  I  shall  never  return.'  Nevertheless  the  Emperor 
sent  him  ;  so  there  he  perished  and  never  returned  :  for  in  those 
sea-depths  are  great  fishes  at  times  of  tempests,  and  rocks  and 
many  wrecks  of  ships,  as  he  himself  reported.     He  might  have 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  243 

said  to  Frederick  in  Jonah's  words  *  Thou  hast  cast  me  into  the 
deep,  in  the  heart  of  the  sea,  and  the  flood  encompassed  me 
about ;  all  thy  whirlpools  and  waves  went  over  me.'  This  Nicholas 
was  a  Sicilian  who  once  grievously  offended  his  mother  and  pro- 
voked her  to  wrath ;  wherefore  she  cursed  him  that  he  should 
ever  live  in  the  water  and  come  seldom  to  land ;  and  so  it  came 
about.  Note  that  the  Faro  is  an  arm  of  the  sea  in  Sicily  hard 
by  the  city  of  Messana,  where  there  is  at  times  a  mighty  rush  of 
waters,  and  great  whirlpools  which  suck  ships  under  and  drown 
them ;  and  therein  are  Syrtes  and  Charybdes  and  rocks  of  vast 
size,  and  many  misfortunes.  And  on  the  other  shore  of  this  strait 
is  the  city  of  Reggio,  whereof  St.  Luke  writeth  (Acts  xxviii. 
13).  All  that  I  have  above  written  I  have  heard  a  hundred  times 
from  Brethren  of  Messana,  who  have  been  close  friends  of  mine  : 
for  I  had  in  our  Order  a  cousin-german.  Brother  Giacomino  da 
Cassio  of  Parma,  who  dwelt  at  Messana  and  told  me  those  things 
which  I  have  written  above.^  Moreover,  Frederick  had  likewise 
other  excesses  and  curiosities  and  cursed  ways  and  incredulities, 
whereof  I  have  written  some  in  another  chronicle :  as  of  the 
man  whom  he  shut  up  alive  in  a  cask  until  he  died  therein,  wish- 
ing thereby  to  show  that  the  soul  perished  utterly,  as  if  he  might 
say  the  word  of  Isaiah  '  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we 
die.'  For  he  was  an  Epicurean ;  wherefore,  partly  of  himself 
and  partly  through  his  wise  men,  he  sought  out  all  that  he  could 
find  m  Holy  Scripture  which  might  make  for  the  proof  that  there 
was  no  other  life  after  death,  as  for  instance  '  Thou  shalt  destroy 
them,  and  not  build  them  up '  :  and  again  '  Their  sepulchres  shall 
be  their  houses  for  ever '  "  [also  Ps.  xxxviii.  14,  Ecclus.  xlviii. 
12,  Ps.  cvi.  5,  Ecc.  iii.  19-22,  "and  many  such,  which  Solomon 
said  in  Ecclesiastes  in  the  person  of  carnal  folk  :"  after  which 
Salimbene  quotes  several  contrary  texts,  "  all  of  which  make  for 
the  destruction  of  the  credulity  of  Frederick  and  his  wise  men, 
who  believed  that  there  was  no  life  but  this  present,  in  order  that 
they  might  the  more  freely  employ  themselves  in  their  fleshly 
lusts  and  wretched  ways.  '1  "  Sixthly,  he  fed  two  men  most 
excellently  at  dinner,  one  or  whom  he  sent  forthwith  to  sleep, 
and  the  other  to  hunt ;  and  that  same  evening  he  caused  them  to 
be  disembowelled  in  his  presence,  wishing  to  know  which  had 
digested  the  better  :  and  it  was  judged  by  the  physicians  in 
favour  of  him  who  had  slept.  Seventhly  and  lastly,  being  one 
day  in  his  palace,  he  asked  of  Michael  Scot*  the  astrologer  how 

*  Dante.    InJ.  xx.  116.     In  spite  of  his  later  evil  fame,  he  was  honoured  in  his 
lifetime  by  two  popes. 


244  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

far  he  was  from  the  sky,  and  Michael  having  answered  as  it 
seemed  to  him,  the  Emperor  took  him  to  other  parts  of  his 
kingdom  as  if  for  a  journey  of  pleasure,  and  kept  him  there 
several  months,  bidding  meanwhile  his  architects  and  carpenters 
secretly  to  lower  the  whole  of  his  palace  hall.  Many  days  after- 
wards, standing  in  that  same  palace  with  Michael,  he  asked  of 
him,  as  if  by  the  way,  whether  he  were  indeed  so  far  from  the 
sky  as  he  had  before  said.  Whereupon  he  made  his  calculations, 
and  made  answer  that  certainly  either  the  sky  had  been  raised  or 
the  earth  lowered ;  and  then  the  Emperor  knew  that  he  spake 
truth."  (350  foil.)  Yet  Salimbene  is  careful  to  note  that  Fred- 
erick's cruelties  might  justly  be  excused  by  the  multitude  of  his 
open  and  secret  enemies,  and  that  he  had  a  saving  sense  of 
humour.  (353)  "  He  was  wont  at  times  to  make  mocking 
harangues  before  his  court  in  his  own  palace,  speaking  for  example 
after  the  fashion  of  the  Cremonese  ambassadors,  who  were  sent 
to  him  by  their  fellow-citizens ;  one  of  whom  would  begin  by 
praising  the  other  with  manifold  words  of  commendation,  saying 
'  This  lord  [my  fellow]  is  noble,  wise,  rich,  and  powerful '  :  and 
so  after  commending  each  other  the  ambassadors  would  at  last 
come  to  their  proper  business.  Moreover,  he  would  suflFer 
patiently  the  scoffings  and  mockings  and  revilings  of  jesters,  and 
often  feign  that  he  heard  not.  For  one  day,  after  the  destruction 
of  Victoria  by  the  men  of  Parma,  he  smote  his  hand  on  the 
hump  of  a  certain  jester,  saying  '  My  Lord  Dallio,  when  shall 
this  box  be  opened  ?  '  To  whom  the  other  answered,  '  'Tis  odds 
if  it  be  ever  opened  now,  for  I  lost  the  key  in  Victoria.'  The 
Emperor,  hearing  how  this  jester  recalled  his  own  sorrow  and 
shame,  groaned  and  said,  with  the  Psalmist,  '  I  was  troubled,  and 
1  spoke  not.'  If  any  had  spoken  such  a  jest  against  Ezzelino  da 
Romano,  he  would  without  doubt  have  let  him  be  blinded  or 
hanged.  Again,  another  time  he  suffered  patiently  that  Villano 
da  Ferro  mocked  him  at  the  siege  of  Berceto  ;  for  the  Emperor 
asked  him  how  men  named  the  mangonels  and  catapults  which 
were  there,  and  Villano  gave  him  for  their  names  certain  mocking 
words,  namely  '  sbegna '  and  '  sbegnoino.''  But  the  Emperor  did 
but  smile  and  turn  away."  Moreover,  he  could  himself  play 
cruel  practical  jokes  (591)  "For  one  day,  when  he  was  excom- 
municated by  Pope  Gregory  IX  and  had  come  to  certain  parts 
where  was  the  Patriarch  of  Aquileia,  the  Lord  Berthold,  whom 
I  have  seen  and  known,  a  comely  man  and  uncle  to  St.  Elizabeth 
of  Hungary, — then  the  Emperor  sent  word  to  him  to  come  and 
hear  Mass  with  him.  But  the  Patriarch,  knowing  all  this,  called 
his  barber  and  caused  himself  to  be  bled  before  he  had  seen  the 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  245 

Emperor's  messenger  ;  then  he  sat  down  and  began  to  dine,  and 
sent  word  to  the  Emperor  that  he  could  not  go  and  hear  Mass 
with  him,  since  he  had  been  bled  and  was  set  down  to  meat.  So 
the  Emperor  sent  a  second  time,  bidding  him  come  forthwith,  all 
impediments  notwithstanding  :  whereupon,  willing  to  redeem  his 
vexation,  he  humbly  obeyed,  and  came  and  heard  Mass  with  him." 
To  hear  Mass  with  an  excommunicate  was  of  course  a  mortal 
sin,  which  the  poor  Patriarch  had  only  aggravated  by  the  trick 
of  beginning  his  dinner  beforehand  :  and  the  anecdote  gains  point 
from  what  Salimbene  tells  us  on  another  page  of  the  victim's 
grandeur.  He  has  been  speaking  of  superfluity  in  food  and 
dress  ;  and  he  goes  on  (281)  "It  is  reported,  and  truly  reported 
(and  this  is  altogether  superfluous)  that  the  Patriarch  of  Aquileia, 
on  the  first  day  of  Lent,  has  at  his  table  forty  dishes,  that  is 
forty  varieties  and  courses  of  food  :  and  thus  one  less  is  set  on 
every  day  until  Holy  Saturday  :  and  he  says  that  he  does  this 
for  the  honour  and  glory  of  his  Patriarchate.  Truly  then  Patri- 
archs of  Aquileia  took  not  this  example  from  Christ,  who  fasted 
forty  days  and  forty  nights  in  the  desert."  The  Patriarch  was 
honourable  and  glorious,  and  uncle  to  St.  Elizabeth  ;  and  to  hear 
Mass  under  these  conditions  was  to  crucify  Christ  afresh  :  but 
the  Emperor  was  the  Emperor,  who  (if  he  had  been  driven  to 
it)  was  quite  capable  of  having  the  great  churchman  ripped  open 
to  see  whether  the  excuse  of  dinner  was  true. 

That  superabundant  awe  of  the  Emperor,  which  our  Chronicler 
shared  with  so  many  others  of  his  time,  made  him  ready  to 
attribute  to  Joachim's  and  Merlin's  and  the  Sibyl's  prophecies 
an  authority  scarcely  second  to  that  of  Holy  Writ.  (174)  "I 
could  never  have  believed  that  he  was  indeed  dead,  had  I  not 
heard  it  with  mine  own  ears  from  the  mouth  of  Pope  Innocent  IV, 
preaching  at  Ferrara  in  full  concourse  of  people ;  for  I  was  a 
Joachite,  believing  and  expecting  and  hoping  that  Frederick 
would  do  yet  more  evil."  So  widespread  was  the  reluctance  to 
believe  in  the  Emperor's  final  disappearance,  that  he  was  twice 
personated  after  nis  death :  and  ambassadors  came  from  far 
countries  to  see  the  second  of  these  pretenders.  Even  in  his 
old  age,  Salimbene  attributes  the  death  of  Pope  Gregory  X  and 
Honorius  I V,  in  part  at  least,  to  their  flying  in  the  face  of  Provi- 
dence by  attemptmg  to  set  up  new  Emperors  after  Frederick's 
death,  for  it  had  been  prophesied  "  by  some  Sibyl,  as  men  say," 
that  the  Empire  should  end  with  him,     (349  :  494  :  629). 

Next  to  the  Emperor  and  to  St.  Louis,  the  most  striking  kingly 
figure  of  the  book  is  Charles  of  Anjou.  Salimbene  shows  mingled 
admiration  and  repulsion  for  "  him   of  the  manly  nose."     He 


246  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

mentions  neither  the  cynical  greed  with  which  Charles  robbed 
unhappy  Crusaders  wrecked  on  his  coasts,*  nor  his  reputed  guilt 
as  the  poisoner  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas — but  he  repeatedly 
censures  his  ambition  and  violence  and  those  of  his  French 
knights.  At  the  same  time,  he  bears  the  most  emphatic  testimony 
to  his  valour  (599).  A  Campanian  champion  was  reputed 
invincible  in  single  combat :  and  all  the  knight-errant  in  Charles' 
soul  was  grieved  to  hear  this  man's  praise.  He  therefore  chal- 
lenged the  knight  incognito,  brushing  aside  impatiently  his  son's 
prudent  quotation  from  Ecclesiasticus,  "  He  that  is  high  hath 
another  higher,  and  there  are  others  still  higher  than  these." 
The  champions  fought  like  heroes  of  romance,  until  Charles  was 
smitten  senseless  from  his  horse ;  and  the  knight,  horrified  to 
find  who  it  was  that  he  had  conquered,  fled  the  country  to  avoid 
the  vengeance  which  too  often  awaited  a  successful  champion 
after  medieval  tournaments.  Charles,  on  recovering  his  senses, 
was  anxious  to  renew  the  fight :  and  his  son  had  much  ado  to 
quiet  him  with  a  "  Peace,  father,  for  the  leeches  say  that  ye  have 
two  ribs  of  your  body  broken."  Salimbene  has  much  also  to 
say  of  the  abortive  duel  between  Charles  and  Peter  of  Aragon : 
of  Peter's  pitiful  evasions,  and  the  accusations  of  treachery 
against  Charles.  (517  fi*.)  Yet  Peter,  for  all  his  unknightly 
shifts  on  this  occasion,  was  not  unworthy  to  rest  by  his  rival's 
side  in  that  Valley  of  Flowers  where  Dante  saw  them  on  the 
brink  of  Purgatory.  He  was  the  hero  of  one  of  the  earliest 
recorded  Alpine  ascents,  climbing  to  the  top  of  Canigou  for 
mere  adventurous  curiosity.  (598)  A  thunderstorm  broke  over 
the  party  half-way,  and  the  other  knights  "  fell  to  the  ground 
and  became  as  dead  men  for  the  fear  and  anguish  that  was  come 
upon  them."  Peter  had  much  ado  to  tempt  them  a  little  further 
upwards  ;  breath  and  courage  alike  deserted  them,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  finish  the  ascent  alone.  At  the  top  he  found  a  lake  : 
"  and  when  he  had  cast  a  stone  into  the  waters,  a  monstrous 
dragon  of  loathly  aspect  issued  therefrom,  hovering  round  in  the 
air  until  the  face  of  heaven  was  darkened  with  the  vapour  of  his 
breath  :  whereupon  Peter  went  down  again.  Methinks  that  this 
achievement  of  his  may  be  reckoned  with  those  of  Alexander." 
Salimbene  gives  only  the  briefest  glimpses  of  our  own  Edward 
I,  first  as  a  crusader,  and  then  on  his  way  back  from  the  Holy 
Land  to  take  possession  of  his  crown  :  but  he  records  two  char- 
acteristic anecdotes  of  Henry  III.  (305)  The  pious  king 
humbled  himself  to  welcome  John  of  Parma,  and  kiss  him  as  an 
equal,  silencing  the  murmurs  of  his  knights  with  the  reminder 
that  this  was  for  the  honour  of  God  and  St.  Francis.     But  then 


The  Princes  of  the  Worid.  247 

Henry  *'was  reputed  a  simple  man."  One  day  a  jester  cried 
aloud  in  his  presence  "  Hear  ye,  hear  ye,  my  masters  I  Our  king 
is  like  unto  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  "  How  so  ?  "  asked  the 
King,  hugely  flattered.  "  Because  our  Lord  was  as  wise  at  the 
moment  of  His  conception  as  when  he  was  30  years  old  :  so  like- 
wise our  King  is  as  wise  now  as  when  he  was  a  little  child." 
Henry,  like  other  weak  men,  had  his  fits  of  sudden  fury  ;  and 
he  ordered  the  jester  to  be  strung  up  out  of  hand.  His  servants, 
however,  only  went  through  an  empty  form  of  execution,  and 
bade  the  unlucky  fool  keep  carefully  out  of  the  way  until  the 
King  should  have  forgotten.  Of  Manfred,  again,  he  tells  us 
disappointingly  little,  though  he  once  implies  a  real  sympathy  at 
bottom  for  that  bright  and  unfortunate  figure,  and  his  words  go 
far  to  explain  the  feeling  even  among  the  Guelfs  which  dictated 
Dante's  "  per  lor  maladizion  si  non  se  perde."  (472)  Of  all 
the  princes  of  his  time,  our  good  friar  seems  to  have  had  the 
greatest  admiration  for  the  above-quoted  John  of  Brienne. 
Not  only  was  John  the  hero  of  almost  as  many  martial  legends 
as  our  own  Coeur-de-Lion  ;  but  he  was  persuaded  to  join  the 
Franciscan  Order  on  his  death-bed  ;  and  our  chronicler  is  con- 
vinced that  "  he  would  have  persevered  in  the  Order  all  the  days 
of  his  life,  if  God  had  prolonged  his  days."  (44) 

I  will  not  attempt  to  follow  Salimbene  from  point  to  point 
among  the  scores  of  petty  princes  who  fought  nominally  for  Pope 
or  Emperor,  but  really  for  their  own  hand  :  yet  much  must  be 
told  of  these  men  if  we  are  to  understand  the  age  of  Daute. 
Perhaps  the  most  striking  figures  in  the  Inferno  are  the  great 
Guelf  and  Ghibelline  leaders.  We  find  them  in  the  Tombs  of 
Fire  or  the  River  of  Blood,  or  bound  to  their  trees  of  anguish  in 
the  Forest  of  the  Harpies  ;  and  we  long  to  know  more  of  their 
life  on  earth.  What  brought  these  great  soldiers  and  statesmen 
to  this  dolorous  pass  ?  By  what  stealthy  temptations,  what  mad 
passions,  what  ratal  pressure  of  circumstances,  did  Satan  gain 
such  empire  over  these  souls  for  whom  Christ  died  ?  Our  foot- 
notes give  us  a  few  dry  sentences  with  a  couple  of  dates  ;  and 
even  Benvenuto  da  Imoia,  the  great  collector  of  Dante  legends, 
too  often  fails  us  in  our  sorest  need.  The  real  commentator  on 
Dante  is  Salimbene,  not  only  directly  by  what  he  tells  us  of  actual 
actors  in  the  Commedia^  but  still  more  by  his  living  portraits  of 
their  compeers.  Yet  his  pictures  of  these  men  (like  the  words 
of  all  free-spoken  medieval  churchmen)  are  most  unflattering  to 
knightly  society.  From  Ezzelino  downwards — Ezzelino,  who 
was  the  devil's  chosen  servant,  as  St.  Francis  was  the  chosen 
servant  of  Christ — there  is  scarcely  one  for  whom  we  can  feel 


248  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

real  respect.  Ezzelino  once  slaughtered  in  cold  blood  a  crowd  of 
prisoners  variously  reckoned,  no  doubt  with  medieval  exaggera- 
tion, at  eleven  or  twelve  thousand.  (367)  "  I  believe  in  truth 
that  no  such  wicked  man  has  been  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world  unto  our  own  days  :  for  all  men  trembled  at  him  as  a  rush 
quivers  in  the  water,  and  not  without  cause  :  for  he  who  lived 
to-day  was  not  sure  of  the  morrow.  The  father  would  seek  out 
and  slay  his  son,  and  the  son  his  father,  or  any  of  his  kinsfolk, 
to  please  this  man  :  he  would  submit  ladies  to  the  foulest  mutila- 
tions, and  cast  them  into  prison  with  their  sons  and  daughters  to 
perish  of  hunger."  Scarcely  less  devilish  was  his  brother  Al- 
berigo,  on  whom,  when  at  last  he  fell,  his  infuriated  enemies 
inflicted  cruelties  more  bestial  than  those  which  he  himself  had 
exercised  on  them  and  theirs.  Neither  age  nor  sex  was  spared  in 
these  civil  wars :  to  Papalist  and  Imperialist  alike,  death  or 
bodily  torture  were  not  enough  for  an  enemy,  whose  last  moments 
must  be  still  further  embittered  by  the  anguish  and  shame  of  his 
womenfolk  ;  and  it  was  probably  Alberigo's  deathbed  repentance 
and  horrible  fate  which  moved  Dante  to  spare  him  the  tortures 
of  the  River  of  Blood.  "  He  was  indeed  a  limb  of  Satan  and  a 
son  of  iniquity,"  writes  Salimbene  ;  "  but  he  died  an  evil  death 
with  his  sons  and  daughters.  For  those  who  slew  them  tore  the 
legs  and  arms  of  his  little  sons  from  their  living  bodies,  in  the 
sight  of  their  parents,  and  therewith  they  smote  the  fathers'  and 
mother's  mouths.  Afterwards  they  bound  his  wife  and  daughters 
to  stakes  and  burned  them,  though  they  were  noble  maidens,  and 
the  fairest  in  the  world,  and  guiltless  :  yet  men  so  hated  their 
parents  that  they  would  not  spare  their  innocence.  For  the 
father  and  mother  had  brought  terrible  evil  and  horrible  aflliction 
on  the  Mark  of  Treviso  :  wherefore  men  came  to  Alberigo  with 
pincers,  and  there  in  the  market-place  each  tore  a  piece  from  his 
living  flesh  ;  thus  they  destroyed  his  body  in  mockery  and  scorn 
and  grievous  torments.  For  he  had  slain  this  man's  cousin,  that 
man's  brother,  another's  father  or  son ;  moreover,  he  had  laid  so 
grievous  taxes  and  fines  on  that  land  that  they  must  needs  tear 
down  their  own  houses  and  lay  the  boards  and  beams  and  chests 
and  casks  and  barrels  on  barges,  and  send  them  for  sale  to 
Ferrara,  that  they  might  have  money  to  pay  the  taxes  and  redeem 
themselves.  This  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes.  And  he  feigned  to 
be  at  war  with  his  own  brother  Ezzelino,  that  he  might  the  more 
securely  do  these  evil  deeds  :  nor  did  he  spare  to  slay  his  own 
fellow-citizens  and  subjects.  Moreover,  in  one  day  he  hanged 
25  of  the  greatest  men  of  Treviso,  who  had  in  no  wise  offended 
or  harmed  him  :  but,  because  he  feared  they  might  harm  him, 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  249 

therefore  he  removed  them  from  before  his  face  by  basely  hang- 
ing them.  And  at  the  same  time  he  caused  30  noble  ladies,  their 
wives  and  daughters  and  sisters,  to  come  and  see  them  and  to  be 
seen  of  them  while  they  were  hanged ;  moreover,  he  would  have 
cut  oiF  the  ladies'  noses,  but  this  was  spared  them  by  the  grace 
of  one  whom  he  called  his  bastard  son,  but  who  was  not.  Yet, 
even  so,  their  garments  were  cut  away  in  the  most  foul  and 
shameful  wise' ;  and  they  were  thus  shown  to  the  men  who  were 
to  be  hanged.  And  these  were  hanged  so  near  to  the  ground 
that  the  ladies  were  driven  among  their  feet :  and  they  in  the 
bitterness  of  their  soul  smote  the  ladies'  faces  as  they  died  with 
their  legs  and  feet :  whose  life  was  pain  and  anguish  to  them  for 
this  foul  mockery.  After  this,  Alberigo  caused  them  to  be  fer- 
ried over  the  river  Sila,  that  they  might  go  whither  they  would  ; 
and  with  the  shreds  of  garments  which  were  left  they  bound 
themselves  about  the  middle  like  wild  folk  ;  and  all  that  day  they 
went  15  miles  through  an  untilled  land,  among  thorns  and  briars 
and  nettles  and  burrs  and  pricks  and  thistles,  while  the  flies  stung 
their  bare  bodies ;  and  thus  they  went  weeping,  as  indeed  they 
had  cause  ;  and  withal  they  had  nought  to  eat.  But  God's  help 
must  needs  come  where  man's  help  fails,  as  we  see  in  the  story 
of  Susanna,  and  in  the  case  of  Esaias  who,  while  he  was  being 
sawn  asunder  with  a  wood-saw  and  was  in  vehement  thirst,  and 
his  tormentors  would  give  him  no  water  to  drink  at  his  request, 
the  Lord  sent  water  from  on  high  which  flowed  into  his  mouth. 
So  these  ladies  came  that  day,  about  nightfall,  to  the  lagoons  of 
the  Venetian  Sea  :  and  behold  !  they  were  aware  all  at  once  of 
a  fisher  alone  in  his  little  boat,  to  whom  they  cried  for  help  :  but 
he  was  sore  afraid,  thinking  to  see  some  diabolical  illusion,  or  a 
crew  of  spirits,  or  monsters  of  the  sea  at  least ;  but  at  last  by 
God's  grace,  and  for  their  instant  prayers,  he  came  to  them.  So 
when  they  had  told  their  whole  story  and  all  their  woes,  he  said 
*  I  pity  you  sore,  nor  will  I  leave  you  till  God  give  you  help  : 
yet,  since  my  little  boat  may  bear  but  one  at  a  time,  therefore 
will  I  bring  you  one  by  one  and  set  you  down  on  dry  land  in 
Saldino  ;  for  if  ye  should  stay  here  this  night  the  wolves  would 
devour  you.  Then  on  the  morrow,  before  daybreak,  I  will  get 
me  a  greater  boat  and  bring  you  to  St.  Mark's  church  at  Venice  ; 
where  I  hope  God  will  give  you  help.'  In  brief,  he  brought  all 
over  but  one,  the  last,  whom  he  led  to  his  fisher's  hut  and  fed  to 
her  heart's  content,  and  treated  her  with  all  kindness  and  court- 
esy and  humanity  and  charity  and  honesty  :  and  on  the  morrow 
he  exactly  fulfilled  all  his  promises.  So  when  he  had  brought 
them  into  St.  Mark's  church,  he  came  to  the  Lord  Ottaviano, 


250  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Cardinal  of  the  Roman  Court  and  Legate  in  Lombardy,  who  at 
that  time  was  at  Venice  ;  to  whom  he  told  the  whole  tale  of  these 
ladies  and  of  their  misfortunes,  and  where  they  now  were.  So 
the  Cardinal  came  forthwith  to  them  and  gave  them  to  eat ;  and 
he  sent  word  throughout  the  whole  city  that  all  should  come  to 
him  swiftly  and  hastily  without  delay  in  the  church  of  St.  Mark  : 
both  men  and  women,  small  and  great,  young  men  and  maidens, 
old  men  and  young  :  for  he  would  tell  them  (he  said)  such  things 
as  they  had  never  heard,  and  show  them  such  sights  as  they  had 
never  seen.  What  then  ?  swifter  than  the  tale  may  be  told,  the 
whole  city  of  Venice  was  gathered  together  to  him  on  the  Piazza 
of  St.  Mark,  and  from  his  lips  they  heard  all  the  aforesaid  story  : 
and  when  he  had  finished  speaking,  he  brought  forward  those 
ladies,  in  such  foul  array  and  such  nakedness  as  that  accursed 
Alberigo  had  devised  to  their  dishonour ;  and  this  he  did  to  pro- 
voke the  citizens  unto  the  greater  hatred  against  that  tyrant,  and 
pity  towards  these  ladies.  So  when  the  Venetians  heard  the 
story,  and  saw  the  ladies  as  naked  as  I  have  said,  then  they  rais- 
ed a  great  shout  and  cried,  '  Let  him  die  I  let  that  accursed  man 
die  !  Let  him  and  his  wife  be  burnt  alive,  and  his  whole  seed 
be  rooted  out  from  this  world.'  Then,  by  the  common  consent 
of  the  whole  city,  both  men  and  women,  he  preached  a  crusade 
against  that  accursed  Alberigo.  So  they  went  with  one  mind 
against  Alberigo  and  wrought  him  much  evil,  yet  they  destroyed 
him  not  utterly  :  howbeit  within  a  short  time  after  that  crusade 
he  was  utterly  destroyed  with  all  his  seed,  and  suffered  justly  the 
aforesaid  mockery  and  torments  and  woes.  For  one  day,  having 
lost  his  hawk,  and  being  under  the  open  sky,  he  made  so  foul 
and  boorish  a  gesture  at  the  heaven,  in  sign  of  mockery  and  con- 
tumely and  derision,  thinking  thereby  to  take  vengeance  on  God, 
as  may  scarcely  be  told :  moreover,  when  he  was  come  home,  he 
went  forthwith  into  the  church  and  defiled  God's  altar  in  un- 
speakable wise,  at  that  very  spot  where  the  Lord's  Body  is  con- 
secrated. Moreover  his  wife  would  call  other  noble  ladies  and 
matrons  harlots  and  such  like  names,  nor  did  her  husband  ever 
rebuke  her  and  say,  '  Wherefore  say  est  thou  thus  ? '  Nay 
rather,  but  he  heeded  it  not,  and  she  took  heart  from  his  heed- 
lessness :  so  that  was  a  just  vengeance  which  the  men  of  Treviso 
wreaked  upon  them.  But  after  the  Cardinal  had  ended  his 
sermon  to  the  Venetians,  then  he  commended  those  ladies  to  the 
citizens  as  he  would  have  commended  himself  :  and  they  suc- 
coured them  most  liberally  both  in  food  and  in  clothing  :  more- 
over the  men  of  Treviso  spared  that  man  by  whose  grace  the 
ladies  had  not  lost  their  noses,  and  they  suffered  him  to  live  and 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  251 

did  him  much  kindness,  whereof  he  was  worthy ;  for  he  oft- 
times  restrained  those  tyrants  from  many  iniquities  which  they 
would  have  done." 

These  two  brothers  are  only  the  first  in  evil  pre-eminence 
among  a  whole  host  of  petty  tyrants  whom  Salimbene  enumerates 
under  the  year  1250,  and  to  whom  he  frequently  refers  elsewhere. 
There,  first,  is  Obizzo  of  Este — the  flaxen  head  which  emerges 
side  by  side  with  Ezzelino's  shaggy  black  locks  from  Dante's 
River  of  Blood.  In  1290  Obizzo  became  tyrant  of  Reggio  ;  and 
this  explains  why  Salimbene's  very  unflattering  description  of 
him  (167)  has  been  so  mutilated  by  some  cautious  hand  that  it 
is  only  legible  here  and  there.  To  begin  with,  he  was  believed 
to  have  been  a  supposititious  child,  intruded  by  a  trick  into  the 
noble  inheritance  of  Este.  Furthermore,  "he  caused  his  own 
mother  to  be  drowned :  for  she  had  been  a  washerwoman,  and 
the  buffoons  were  wont  to  put  him  to  shame  for  his  base  birth 
and  his  ignoble  mother.  Moreover  it  was  reported  of  him  that 
he  violated  the  wives  and  daughters  of  both  nobles  and  commons 
at  Ferrara ;  and  he  was  ill-famed  of  many  foul  and  incestuous 
connexions.  Many  other  evils  he  did,  and  many  shall  he  receive 
from  God,  unless  he  be  converted  to  Him.  He  was  so  intimate 
a  friend  of  the  Cardinal  Ottobono,  who  was  afterwards  Pope 
Adrian  V,  that  he  took  his  near  kinswoman  to  wife :  and  his 
firstborn  was  the  Lord  Azzo  \^Inf.  xviii,  56]  who  had  a  wife  of 
the  kin  of  Pope  Nicholas  III,  a  Roman  by  birth."  We  get  brief 
glimpses  of  other  figures  familiar  to  us  in  the  "  Commedia  " — 
Pietro  Pagani  (370),  whose  wife  and  sister  were  both  Salimbene's 
spiritual  daughters:  Salinguerra,  (165)  "who  was  wont  to  say 
'He  hath  given  the  heaven  to  the  Lord  of  Heaven,  but  the 
earth  to  the  children  of  men,'  as  who  should  boast  of  his  own 
might  here  on  earth.  Yet  he  was  drowned  in  the  lagoons  of 
Venice ;  and,  wise  as  he  was,  he  had  a  foolish  son,  as  Rehoboam 
was  to  Solomon."  We  get  some  glimpses  of  Buoso  da  Duera, 
who  (363)  "  did  much  evil  to  others,  and  in  the  end  himself  also 
received  much  evil."  Pinamoute,  again,  is  mentioned  at  some 
length  (436  ff")  :  "  he  was  feared  as  the  Devil  :  he  was  an  old 
man  and  altogether  bald-headed,  and  had  a  huge  multitude  of 
children ;  among  whom  was  a  certain  Friar  Minor,  Brother 
Philip  by  name,  a  good  and  honest  man  and  Lector  in  theology, 
who  was  once  Inquisitor,  and  took  and  scattered  and  destroyed 
many  heretics  of  the  district  called  Sermilione."  To  him,  in 
1283,  the  Cardinal-Legate  Bernardo  sent  two  friars  as  am- 
bassadors for  the  sake  of  peace :  "  and  the  Lord  Pinamonte 
received  them  courteously,  both  for  their  Order's  sake  and  for 


252  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

the  Cardinars  :  notwithstanding  it  had  been  ordained  that  who- 
soever should  bring  a  letter  into  Mantua  should  be  beheaded. 
And  he  sent  to  the  Friars  Minor,  for  these  messengers'  sake,  a 
waggon-load  of  good  wine,  and  the  half  of  a  flitch  of  bacon  ;  and 
one  of  his  sons  sent  to  the  Brethren  a  great  and  glorious  pastj, 
with  many  other  gifts.  So  the  Brethren  returned  with  the  Lord 
Pinamonte's  letters  :  what  might  be  contained  therein,  God  only 
knoweth.  Moreover  the  Lord  Pinamonte  was  wont  to  boast  that  he 
had  never  had  any  ill-fortune,  but  all  things  had  succeeded  as  he  had 
wished :  which  was  a  great  folly,  as  the  wise  man  saith  in  Proverbs 
[xxvii,  1]."  Of  Guido  Vecchio  da  Polenta,  father  to  the  ill- 
fated  Francesca  da  Rimini  and  grandfather  to  Dante's  last  patron 
Guido  Novello,  Salimbene  gives  us  one  of  his  few  anecdotes 
worthy  of  the  romantic  conception  of  the  Age  of  Chivalry. 
(606)  After  relating  an  instance  of  bitter  and  somewhat  un- 
generous rivalry,  he  goes  on  :  "  The  Lord  Guido  da  Polenta 
of  the  city  of  Ravenna  wrought  far  better  than  this,  in  that  he 
avenged  himself  suflSciently,  yet  would  not  pass  beyond  measure. 
For  when  he  was  yet  a  boy,  and  the  Emperor  kept  his  father  in 
chains,  the  Lord  Guido  Malabocca,  brother  of  the  Count  Roger 
of  Bagnacavallo,  persuaded  the  Emperor  to  cut  off  the  father's 
head  ;  wherefore  the  Lord  Guido,  when  he  was  grown  to  man's 
estate,  cut  off  in  return  the  head  of  Guido  Malabocca.  Now,  in 
process  of  time,  as  he  was  journeying  to  Bagnacavallo  with  a 
great  following  of  armed  men,  and  those  who  were  his  fellows 
on  that  journey  would  have  persuaded  him  that  he  might  now 
rid  himself  wholly  of  the  Count  Roger  and  never  fear  him  more, 
yet  he  answered  and  said,  '  We  have  done  enough  :  suffice  it 
then  that  we  have  done  thus  far  :  for  evil  may  ever  be  done,  but 
afterwards  it  may  not  be  undone.'  And  so  he  suffered  him  to  go 
free."  The  very  emphasis  with  which  the  chronicler  records 
this  trait  of  ordinary  generosity  is  significant ;  and  indeed  all 
intimate  records  of  the  Middle  Ages  give  very  much  the  same 
unfavourable  picture  of  the  feudal  nobility.  Not  that  they 
were  unworthy  of  the  place  they  occupied  in  their  own  times 
and  among  their  own  circumstances  : — but  what  circumstances, 
and  what  times  !  No  more  damning  judgment  can  be  passed 
on  medieval  society  than  the  continual  cry  of  the  apologist, 
perfectly  true  within  its  own  limits,  "  You  must  not  judge  the 
man  or  the  deed  in  that  century  as  you  would  judge  them  in 
ours  I  "  Yet  the  best  men  of  their  own  age  made  less  allowance 
for  them  than  we.  Cardinal  Jacques  de  Vitry,  when  he  comes 
to  speak  of  the  sufferings  of  the  common  folk  in  the  13  th  century, 
exclaims  outright  "  How  inad  are  the  men  who  rejoice  when  sons 


•  The  Princes  of  the  World.  253 

are  born  to  their  lords  !  "^  Page  after  page  of  Salimbene's  book 
tells  us  of  reckless  bloodshed,  cowardly  murders,  and  treachery. 
Like  the  Knight  of  La  Tour  Landry,  [p.  2  and  passim]  he  shows 
us  plainly  and  frequently  the  risks  which  a  lady's  honour  ran  in 
noble  houses.'  (pp.  27,  67,  427,  429)  His  average  noble,  like 
those  of  contemporary  chronicles  and  even  of  many  medieval 
romances,  answers  pretty  well  to  the  Byronic  sarcasm — not 
quite  a  felon,  yet  but  half  a  knight.  We  have  the  knightly 
forger  of  a  will  (1287 — 398),  and  the  usual  knightly  Bluebeard. 
(483)  "  The  Lord  Jacobino  di  Palude  on  divers  occasions  slew 
many  of  his  own  house,  namely,  the  father  of  his  son-in-law, 
and  his  son-in-law,  and  the  son  of  his  own  daughter,  a  little 
child  still  at  the  nurse's  breast,  whom  he  dashed  against  the 
earth,  and  his  cousin-german,  the  Lord  Arverio,  with  his  two 
sons,  and  likewise  another  of  his  own  house." 

Salimbene  is  exceptional  in  giving  us  no  hint  of  the  frequency 
with  which  ladies  were  beaten  in  private  life  by  their  fathers  and 
husbands ;  but  we  have  already  had  glimpses  of  their  fate  in 
time  of  war — and  when  was  there  not  war  ?  The  study  of  fresh 
documents  makes  it  plainer  every  day  that  theory  and  practice 
were  as  widely  divorced  in  medieval  chivalry  as  in  religion. 
Sacchetti,  who  was  bom  about  the  time  of  Dante's  death, 
complains  repeatedly  that  money  would  buy  knighthood  for 
the  vilest — mechanics,  bakers,  "  usurers  and  cozening  ribalds." 
His  contemporary  Fra  Giordano  da  Rivalto  implies  the  same  :  and 
Salimbene  also  shows  us  how  great  a  part  usury  often  played  in 
family  greatness  (609).  It  was  a  mortal  sin,  of  course  ;  and  few 
figures  are  more  pitiful  in  the  Inferno  than  the  usurers  writhing 
and  shifting  under  the  rain  of  fire ;  yet,  as  the  good  Benvenuto 
complains  in  his  commentary,  "  He  who  taketh  usury  goeth  to 
hell :  and  he  who  taketh  none  liveth  on  the  verge  of  beggary." 
Moreover,  there  was  always  good  hope  of  escaping  the  dolorosa 
foco:  it  was  only  necessary  to  make  a  last  confession  to  the  friars 
and  leave  them  some  of  the  ill-gotten  gains  for  conscience-money. 
We  see  this  even  in  Salimbene  :  Ubertino  and  the  Spirituals 
complain  of  it  as  one  of  the  worst  scandals  in  the  Order  ;  and 
St.  Bonaventura  sadly  admits  something  of  the  impeachment." 
Though  this  process  of  buying  nobility  marks  the  beginning  of  a 
new  world,  yet  the  people  in  general  were  scarcely  happier  under 
this  new  aristocracy  than  they  had  been  under  the  old.  Canon 
Knox-Little,  with  even  more  neglect  than  usual  of  plain  fact«, 
asserts  that  the  Franciscan  Tertiary  system  broke  the  power  of 
Feudalism  before  1230,  and  had  "  emancipated  the  middle  classes 
and  the  poor  from  feudal  tyranny  "  before  the  death  of  Frederick 


254  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

in  1250.  (pp.  217-220).  No  doubt  the  Tertiary  system  exer- 
cised a  real  democratic  influence  in  the  long  run  ;  but  it  is  almost 
incredible  that  anyone  professing  an  acquaintance  with  Italian 
history  could  bring  himself  to  write  "  What  now  ?  Military 
service  was  swept  away."  To  St.  Bonaventura,  the  Tertiaries 
were  mainly  an  ungrateful  burden.^  Often  as  Salimbene  tells  us 
of  the  Friars'  services,  either  as  peacemakers  or  as  combatants 
against  the  pre-eminently  feudal  party,  he  has  not  a  word  to  say  for 
the  Tertiaries  :  while  for  their  aristocratic  imitators,  the  Frati  Go- 
denti,  he  has  as  little  sympathy  as  Dante  had.  (467)  "  In  the  year 
1261  was  composed  and  ordained  the  Rule  of  the  knights  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  by  the  mediation  of  Brother  RufFo  Gur- 
gone  of  Piacenza,  who  for  many  years  had  been  minister  Provin- 
cial of  Bologna,  and  was  then  a  Penitentiary  at  the  Papal  court. 
The  Order  was  founded  by  Loderingo  degli  Andaloi  of  Bologna, 
who  was  its  Prior  and  Prelate,  and  by  other  honourable  and  noble 
men.  These  knights  are  by  the  country-folk  scoffingly  called 
'  Godenti,'  as  who  should  say  '  They  are  only  become  Frati  that 
they  may  keep  their  goods  for  themselves  alone,  according  to  the 
word  of  that  miser  of  whom  Ecclesiasticus  speak eth  (xi.  18.)' 
Moreover  I  remember  that  this  Order  was  founded  in  Parma  at 
the  time  of  the  Alleluia,  (that  is  in  the  days  of  the  other  great 
devotion),  by  the  means  of  Brother  Bartholomew  of  Vicenza  of 
the  Friars  Preachers,  who  in  those  days  had  high  rank  in  Parma, 
a  good  man  who  was  afterward  Bishop  of  Vicenza,  his  own 
native  city.  And  the  aforesaid  Brethren  had  the  same  habit  as 
these  [Godenti],  and  a  white  saddle  and  a  red  cross  :  there  was 
only  this  difference,  that  the  Parmese  Order  were  called  Knights 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Godenti,  Knights  of  St.  Mary.  But 
the  former  lasted  and  endured  many  years,  and  at  length  failed  : 
for  I  saw  both  their  beginning  and  their  end,  and  few  entered 
into  their  Order.  Likewise  these  Godenti  are  indeed  multiplied 
like  bread  in  the  hand  of  a  hungry  man  :  and  they  think  them- 
selves to  have  done  a  great  and  noble  deed  in  taking  this  habit : 
but  they  are  little  esteemed  at  the  Court  of  Rome  ;  and  this  for 
four  reasons.  First,  they  have  never  used  their  wealth  to  build 
monasteries  or  hospitals,  or  bridges  or  churches,  nor  are  they 
found  to  have  done  other  works  of  piety.  Secondly,  that  they 
have  ravished  much  of  others'  goods,  as  great  men  are  wont  to  do, 
nor  have  they  restored  their  illgotten  gains.  Thirdly,  after  they 
have  wasted  their  wealth  in  lavish  expenses  upon  many  vanities, 
and  in  banqueting  with  buffoons  rather  than  with  Christ's  poor, 
they  now  beg  of  the  Roman  church  and  would  fain  get  from  the 
Pope  and  enter  into  the  convents  of  better  Religious  than  them- 


The  Princes  of  the  World.  255 

selves,  and  expel  these  latter  from  their  dwellings.  Fourthly,  for 
that  thej  are  most  avaricious  men.  Fifthly  and  lastly,"  [for  our 
chronicler  finds  an  extra  reason],  "  I  see  not  whereunto  they  serve 
God  s  church  or  what  profits  they  bring,  unless  perchance  that 
they  save  their  own  souls,  which  St.  Jerome  calleth  *  a  holy 
boorishness,  profitable  to  itself  alone.'  Enough  of  this  matter  : 
now  must  we  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice  [cum  Gaudentibus] 
and  weep  with  those  that  weep,  as  the  Apostle  saith." 

In  spite  of  Salimbene's  many  aristocratic  friends ;  in  spite  of 
the  consciousness  of  noble  birth  which  never  deserted  him  and 
coloured  all  his  views,  you  may  seek  vainly  from  end  to  end  of 
his  long  chronicle  for  more  than  one  or  two  instances  of  real 
chivalry.  Of  mere  vulgar  barons  of  prey  there  are  plenty  : 
Ghiberto  da  Gente,  for  instance,  whom  the  Chronicon  Parmense 
accuses  of  abusing  his  judicial  power  to  torture  an  innocent 
noble  after  failing  to  seduce  his  daughter  ;  and  who  after  coming 
into  power  with  the  help  of  the  butchers  of  Parma,  showed  him- 
self as  grasping  and  close-fisted  as  any  nouveau  riche  of  our  own 
century  (448)  "He  was  greedy  and  avaricious  beyond  all 
measure  ;  so  that,  during  his  dominion,  no  man  in  Parma  might 
sell  any  sort  of  victual  except  publicly  ;  and  he  made  himself  a 
partner  with  all  who  sold,  that  he  might  get  his  share  of  gain 
from  all.  Moreover  he  was  so  stingy  that,  when  a  knight  of  the 
court  [i.e.,  jongleur]  had  begged  him  for  a  gift,  he  said  he  would 
give  him  a  shilling  of  Bologna  to  buy  himself  figs  withal.  I 
myself  experienced  and  proved  and  saw  and  knew  his  boorish- 
ness and  avarice  and  filthy  stinginess  [rnerditatem~\  in  his  villa  of 
Campigine ;  yet  I  had  gone  thither  on  his  own  service,  with 
Brother  Bernardino  da  Buzea."  There  is  Uberto  Pallavicino, 
again,  (344)  "a  puny  and  weakly  old  man,  and  one-eyed  (for, 
while  he  was  yet  in  his  cradle,  a  cock  had  picked  out  one  of  his 
eyes),  whom  in  former  days  I  have  seen  so  poor  that  he  was  proud 
to  have  two  squires  riding  abroad  with  him  on  sorry  jades  "  :  yet  by 
his  courage  and  audacity  he  won  city  after  city,  built  palace  upon 
palace,  (one  of  which  was  "  like  a  town  in  itself  "),  and  exchanged 
his  barren  wife,  like  any  Henry  VIII,  for  another  who  might 
bear  him  a  son.  We  see  too  the  truth  of  Joinville's  remark  that 
many  men  of  great  pretensions  belied  their  reputation  in  the  hour 
of  danger.  Bartolino  Tavemario,  one  of  the  greatest  nobles  in 
Parma,  lived  "  many  days  and  nights  "  in  such  anguish  of  his  life 
for  fear  of  Pallavicino  and  other  enemies  that  "  when  he  heard 
noises  by  night — as  indeed  he  heard  many  such — he  would  flee  forth 
on  horseback  from  his  villa  into  the  field  and  tarry  there  sleepless 
all  night  long  in  the  open  air,  ready  at  any  moment  for  flight."^ 


256  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

(604)  Another,  it  is  true,  commanded  Salimbene's  admiration  by 
his  coolness  and  courage  under  similar  circumstances  :  for  "  one 
day  when  Pallavicino  was  to  march  with  his  500  men-at-arms 
through  one  of  the  quarters  of  Parma,  the  Marchese  Lupi  bade 
a  servant  wash  his  feet  in  a  tub  under  his  portico  in  the  very 
street ;  for  he  wished  to  show  how  he  cared  no  more  for  Palla- 
vicino than  for  a  goat's  tail."  (605)  Rare  indeed  is  such  a 
picture  as  this  following,  of  one  who  might  pass  for  a  living 
illustration  of  Chaucer's  "  verray  parfit,  gentil  knyght."  "  The 
Count  [Lodovico]  di  San  Bonifazio,  who  should  have  been  Lord 
of  Verona,  wandered  through  the  world  as  an  exile  :  yet  he  was 
wholly  devoted  to  the  Church  party,  a  good  man,  and  holy,  and 
strong  and  doughty  in  anns,  and  skilled  in  war.  In  the  year 
1283  he  lay  dying,  and  by  his  testament  he  committed  all  his 
children  into  the  hand  of  the  lord  Obizzo  of  Este,  who  received 
them  courteously  and  treated  them  as  his  children,  though 
formerly  he  loved  not  the  count,  for  they  had  quarrelled 
concerning  the  city  of  Mantua.  So  in  the  night  following  the 
count  died  in  the  presence  of  the  Friars  Minor,  to  whom  he  had 
confessed  :  and  he  ordered  excellently  for  the  health  of  his  soul. 
And  the  citizens  of  Reggio  spent  liberally  on  his  funeral,  as  for 
a  noble  man  who  had  been  their  Podesta  and  had  been  driven 
from  his  possessions  for  the  sake  of  the  Church  party.  And  all 
the  Religious  of  Reggio  and  many  nuns  were  at  his  funeral,  and 
all  the  citizens  with  many  foreigners,  and  the  noblest  of  the  city 
bore  him  on  his  bier.  His  body  was  clothed  in  scarlet  with  fair 
fur  of  vair  and  a  splendid  pall ;  and  it  Avas  laid  with  the  same 
magnificence  on  the  Monday  following  in  a  fair  tomb,  exceeding 
fair,  which  the  Commune  had  caused  to  be  made  at  their  own 
expense.  His  sword  was  by  his  side,  and  his  gilded  spurs  on  his 
ieet,  and  a  great  purse  at  his  belt  of  silk,  and  gloves  on  his 
hands,  and  on  his  head  a  most  fair  cap  of  vair  and  scarlet,  and  a 
mantle  of  scarlet  trimmed  with  divers  furs.  And  he  left  his 
charger  and  his  armour  to  the  Friars  Minor.  He  was  an  hon- 
ourable and  holy  man  :  so  honourable  that  when  he  went  through 
the  city  he  never  raised  his  eyes  to  look  on  any  woman,  whereat 
even  the  women  and  the  fairest  ladies  marvelled.  Moreover,  on 
the  anniversary  of  his  death  his  wife  sent  a  fair  pall  of  purple 
samite  for  the  altar  of  the  Friars'  convent  at  Reggio,  where  her 
husband  was  buried.  May  his  soul,  by  God's  mercy,  rest  in 
peace  I     Amen."     (368  ;  513). 


Chapter  XXI. 
Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh. 

THE  storj  of  these  worldly  princes  is  taken  mainly  from  a 
long  digression  in  which  Salimbene  enumerates  and  char- 
acterises the  rulers  of  his  time.  He  then  proceeds  to  give  us 
the  other  side  of  the  picture,  and  to  estimate  with  his  usual  keen 
but  sympathetic  insight  the  Legates  who  had  been  commissioned 
by  different  Popes  to  champion  the  Church  cause  in  Northern 
Italy  :  and  who,  in  consequence  of  the  worldly  policy  which  was 
inseparable  from  the  Temporal  Power,  were  necessarily  statesmen 
or  warriors  first  of  all,  and  churchmen  only  in  the  second  place. 
These  portraits  are  valuable  as  coming  from  a  convinced  and 
consistent  Churchman  who  had  yet  independence  enough  to  writ€ 
of  things  and  men  exactly  as  he  saw  them,  and  as  they  were 
frankly  discussed  within  the  ranks  of  the  Guelf  party.  It  is 
very  difficult  for  a  modern  reader  to  realize  13th  century  society. 
But  here  and  there  even  a  single  episode,  told  frankly  and  in 
detail,  gives  the  intelhgent  readerjust  that  double  evidence  which 
we  require — the  conviction,  not  only  that  the  thing  is  true  in 
itself,  but  also  that  it  is  characteristic  of  the  times — no  mere 
artificial  museum-specimen,  but  a  real  natural  growth,  drifted 
down  the  ages  to  us,  with  the  soil  of  its  home  still  clinging  to  its 
roots.  Not  all  the  crimes  of  Gilles  de  Retz  are  half  so  damning 
to  loth  century  society  as  the  collateral  evidence  of  the  equanimity 
with  which  his  misdeeds  were  so  long  suffered,  of  his  own  firm 
trust  to  meet  his  accomplice  in  Paradise,  and  of  the  tenderness 
with  which  his  bones  were  brought  by  "  damsels  of  high  estate," 
to  be  buried  honourably  with  the  Carmelite  friars  of  Nantes.* 
Similarly,  even  the  sickening  atrocities  of  Alberigo,  and  the  no 
less  sickening  reprisals  of  his  victims,  carry  in  themselves  less 
demonstrative  force  than  the  matter-of-course  words  in  which 
Salimbene,  a  nobleman  by  birth  and  a  man  of  Religion  by  pro- 
fession, records  how  the  victims  were  paraded  before  the  crowd 
in  their  naked  shame,  until  the  Venetian  citizens  were  sufficiently 
wrought  up   to  the  Holy  War.     So,  again,  many  students  to 


258  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

whom  the  Inferno  has  given  an  inkling  of  the  real  life  of  the 

S"  rants,  and  who  have  a  clear  enough  general  recollection  that 
ante  saw  grave  faults  in  the  Church  of  his  time,  may  yet  be  sur- 
prised at  these  figures  of  Church  champions  drawn  by  Salimbene 
from  the  life.  He  describes  in  chronological  order  the  twelve 
Papal  Legates  who,  during  his  lifetime,  had  championed  the 
Church  cause  in  Italy.  The  first  was  Ugolino,  friend  and  pro- 
tector of  St.  Francis,  and  later  Pope  Gregory  IX.  The  next 
was  "  The  Cardinal  "  yar  excellence^  Ottaviano,  into  whose  mouth 
later  chroniclers  put  the  despairing  cry,  "if  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  a  soul,  then  I  have  lost  mine  for  the  Ghibellines  I " 
(385)  "  He  was  a  goodly  man  to  see,  and  of  noble  birth  ;  for  he 
was  of  the  sons  of  Ubaldino  da  Mugello  in  the  Bishopric  of 
Florence  ;  he  was  of  great  repute  among  the  Imperial  party  ;  but 
for  his  own  honour's  sake  he  sometimes  wrought  to  the  profit  of 
the  Church,  knowing  that  thereto  he  had  been  sent.  When  he 
was  Legate  at  Bologna,  I  oft-times  ate  with  him,  and  he  set  me 
ever  at  the  head  of  his  board,  so  that  none  sat  Ijetwixt  me  and 
him  but  the  friar  my  comrade ;  and  he  himself  took  the  third 
place  from  the  head  of  the  table.  Then  I  did  as  the  Wise  Man 
saith  in  Proverbs  :  '  When  thou  sittest  to  eat  with  a  ruler,  con- 
sider diligently  what  is  before  thee  and  set  a  knife  to  thy  throat '  : 
and  this  was  right  and  proper,  for  the  whole  hall  of  this  palace 
was  full  of  guests.  Yet  we  had  food  in  plenty  and  with  all 
decency,  and  choice  wine  was  set  before  us,  and  all  delicacies. 
Then  began  I  to  love  the  Cardinal,  as  it  is  written  in  Proverbs 
'  Many  will  intreat  the  favour  of  the  prince  ;  and  every  man  is  a 
friend  to  him  that  giveth  gifts.'  But  the  Cardinal  invited  me  and 
my  comrade  to  go  and  eat  daily  with  him  ;  but  I  thought  best  to 
do  as  Ecclesiasticus  teacheth  '  When  thou  art  bidden  of  a  more 
powerful  man  than  thou,  depart,  for  thus  will  he  bid  thee  all  the 
more.'  Moreover,  it  was  said  of  this  same  Cardinal  that  he  was 
the  son  of  the  Lord  Pope  Gregory  IX  ;  perchance  for  that  he 
had  loved  him  with  special  love.  I  have  also  seen  the  daughter 
of  this  Cardinal,  a  nun  in  a  certain  convent^ :  and  she  invited 
and  prayed  me  instantly  to  be  her  spiritual  father,  [devotus)  and 
she  my  spiritual  daughter  {devota).  She  knew  not  whose  daughter 
she  was,  nor  what  a  father  she  had.  But  I  knew  well,  and 
answering  said  to  her,  '  I  will  not  have  thee  for  a  friend,  for  the 
poet  Patecchio  saith,  "  It  is  a  weariness  when  I  cannot  speak  with 
her,"  meaning  to  say,  "  It  is  a  weariness  to  have  a  lady-friend  to 
whom  her  friend  cannot  speak,"  as  thou  art,  being  enclosed  in  a 
convent.'  And  she  said  to  me,  '  Even  if  we  may  not  converse 
together,   at  least  let  us  love  each  other  in   heart,  and  pray 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  259 

mutually  for  each  other's  salvation,  as  St.  James  saith  in  his  last 
chapter  (v.  16).'  And  I  thought  within  myself  that  she  would 
have  drawn  me  in  little  by  little,  and  entangled  me,  that  I  might 
love  her  :  so  I  told  her  the  example  of  the  blessed  Arsenius." 
The  reference  is  to  St.  Jerome's  "  Lives  of  the  Fathers."*  The 
aged  Arsenius  was  visited  in  his  desert  cell  by  a  noble  Roman 
lady,  who  had  dared  the  perils  of  the  deep  and  of  the  wilderness 
to  look  once  upon  his  face.  She  fell  at  his  feet :  but  he  rebuked 
her  intrusion  with  such  asperity  that  she  dared  not  even  look  up, 
and  could  only  falter,  "  I  beseech  thee,  pray  for  me  and  deign  to 
bear  me  in  mind."  "  I  pray  to  God,"  replied  the  Saint,  "  that 
He  may  blot  all  memory  of  thee  from  my  soul."  She  was  cut  to 
the  heart,  went  home,  took  to  her  bed  and  longed  to  die.  Her 
own  bishop,  however,  cured  her  by  pointing  out  how  subtle  a 
flattery  the  Saint's  rudeness  implied  to  her  charms  ;  and  we  may 
perhaps  hope  that  the  same  reflection  consoled  Salimbene's  fair 
friend.  He  pursues  "  Moreover  the  Lord  Ottaviano  was  a  most 
subtle  man.  For  one  day  when  there  was  a  great  procession,  a 
certain  jester  raised  his  voice  as  the  Cardinal  went  by  and  said  in 
his  hearing,  '  Remove,  all  ye  good  folk,  and  give  way  and  let  the 
man  pass  who  hath  betrayed  the  Roman  court  and  oft-times 
deceived  the  church  I '  Hearing  this,  the  cardinal  softly  bade  one 
of  his  men  to  shut  the  man's  mouth  with  a  gift  of  money,  know- 
ing that  all  things  obey  money.  And  thus  he  redeemed  his  own 
vexation  ;  for  the  jester  took  the  gift,  and  went  forthwith  to 
another  place  where  the  Cardinal  should  pass  by ;  and  then  he 
spake  in  manifold  commendation  of  him,  saying  that  there  was 
no  better  cardinal  at  the  court,  and  that  he  was  well  worthy  of 
the  Papal  tiara.  Of  such  saith  Micah  :  'if  one  give  not  some- 
what into  their  mouth  they  hallow  war  against  him.'  Moreover 
I  have  heard  it  said  that  if  Pope  Innocent  IV  had  lived  but  a 
little  while  longer,  he  would  have  put  down  the  Lord  Ottaviano 
from  his  Cardinalate  for  that  he  was  too  much  Imperial  and 
wrought  not  faithfully  for  the  Church.  But  he,  knowing  that  he 
had  not  the  Pope's  favour,  and  that  this  had  already  been  noised 
abroad  by  many  at  the  Court  and  elsewhere,  did  thus  to  show 
that  he  had  the  Pope's  favour.  One  day  when  all  the  Cardinals 
were  hastening  to  go  out  from  the  Consistory  and  from  the  Pope's 
presence  to  their  own  homes,  the  Lord  Ottaviano  alone  remained 
so  long  in  talk  with  a  clerk  in  the  closet  or  chamber  which  was  at 
the  issue  from  the  Pope's  presence,  until  he  knew  that  all  the 
other  Cardinals  were  gone  forth,  so  that  they  who  were  in  the 
palace  hall  might  think  him  to  have  gone  out  last  of  all,  wishing 
thus  to  show  that  the  Pope  had  kept  him  to  hold  familiar  converse 


26o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  treat  privily  of  great  matters  with  him  ;  that  thej  might  thus 
think  him  the  greatest  cardinal  of  the  court,  and  most  powerful  of 
all  with  the  Pope,  and  in  consequence  might  bring  him  gifts  as 
to  one  who  could  help  them  in  their  business  with  the  Pope." 

The  next  Legate  whom  he  describes  is  Gregorio  da  Monte- 
lungo,  who  lived  in  Ferrara  shortly  before  Salimbene,  and 
whose  pet  raven  was  already  of  legendary  fame,  like  the  raven 
of  St.  Francis.*  "  Long  ago,  when  he  lived  in  Ferrara,  he  had 
a  raven  which  he  was  wont  to  pledge  for  great  sums  of  money, 
and  afterwards  to  redeem  faithfully  by  repaying  the  gold.  For  the 
raven  spake  like  a  man  and  was  an  excellent  buffoon.  For  he 
would  arise  in  the  night  and  call  forth  from  their  inns  the  travellers 
who  abode  therein,  crying  '  Who  will  come  to  Bologna  ?  Who 
will  come  to  Dojolo  ?  Who  will  come  to  Peola  ?  Let  him  come, 
come,  come  !  Quick,  quick  1  Arise,  arise  !  Come,  come  I 
Bring  your  baggage  1  Off,  off !  To  the  boat,  to  the  boat  I 
Raise  [the  anchor],  raise  !  Yare,  yare,  yare  !  Get  off  the  boat  I 
Steer,  steer  ! '  So  the  stranger  guests,  not  knowing  the  wiles  and 
deceits  of  this  raven,  would  arise  and  carry  their  goods  and 
baggage  ;  and  well-nigh  all  night  long  they  would  wait  by  the 
Po  bank  for  the  ship  to  take  them  whither  they  would  go :  and 
they  marvelled  who  could  so  have  deceived  them,  for  they  heard 
no  man  by  the  river.  Moreover,  this  raven  had  such  a  feud  with 
a  certain  blind  man  that,  whenever  he  begged  with  bare  legs  and 
feet  along  the  banks  of  the  Po,  the  bird  would  come  and  peck 
his  heels  and  calves,  and  draw  back  and  cry  injuriously  to  the 
blind  man,  '  now  thou  hast  it,  now  thou  hast  it !  '  But  one  day 
the  blind  man  smote  the  raven  with  his  staff  and  broke  his  wing, 
and  said  *  now  thou  hast  it,  now  thou  hast  it  1 '  W  hereunto  the 
raven  answered  :  '  now  I  have  it,  now  I  have  it.'  And  the  blind 
man  *  keep  now  that  thou  hast,  take  what  is  thine  own  and 
depart !  cozeners  and  deceivers  provoke  the  wrath  of  God :  1 
have  smitten  thee  once  and  no  second  stroke  will  be  needed.  Go 
to  the  physician,  if  by  chance  he  may  heal  thee,  for  incurable 
is  thy  breaking,  terrible  is  thy  wound.'     So  the  lord  Gregorio 

f)awned  his  raven  for  a  pledge  and  wOuld  never  redeem  him,  but 
eft  him  there,  for  that  he  was  smitten.  So  do  very  many, 
\^plures'\  who  leave  their  servants  when  they  begin  to  fall  sick." 
Salimbene  pays  a  high  tribute  to  the  Legate's  military  genius 
and  political  orthodoxy  :  but  his  morals  were  no  more  irreproach- 
able than  those  of  Ottaviano.  (391 )  "  He  faithfully  treated  and 
wrought  the  affairs  of  the  Church,  and  therefore  he  earned  the 
Patriarchate  of  Aquileia  and  held  it  many  years,  even  to  his  last 
end.     Yet  it  must  be  known  of  the  Lord  Gregorio  da  Monte- 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  261 

lungo  that  he  was  gouty  and  unchaste  [non  bene  castus]  :  for  I 
knew  a  leman  of  his.  But  many  secular  clerics  who  have  lord- 
ships and  prelacies  and  live  in  deHghts,  seem  to  care  little  for 
chastity  ;  and  they  put  into  the  Apostle's  [Paul's]  mouth  that 
he  said  *  though  not  chastely,  yet  [live]  cautiously.'*  But  the 
Apostle  wrote  not  thus  :  rather  he  wrote  [1  Cor.  xv,  33,  34  ; 
Gal.  vi,  5-8  ;  also  Wisdom  ix,  15,  Eccles.  xiv,  20,  21,  and  many 
other  texts].  All  this  I  have  said,  because  certain  worldly 
clerics,  who  desire  to  live  after  the  flesh,  lay  upon  the  Apostle 
this  crazy  falsehood,  saying  that  he  said  'if  not  chastely,  yet 
[live]  cautiously.'  Methinks  I  have  heard  them  say  it  a  hundred 
times  :  and  certainly  the  Apostle  taught  no  such  doctrine  :  for  he 
saith  '  A  bishop  must  be  blameless,  having  his  children  in  sub- 
jection with  all  gravity.'*  After  Gregorio  da  Montehmgo  the 
Lord  Philip  [Fontana],  by  the  grace  of  God  and  of  the  Pope 
Archbishop  of  the  holy  church  of  Ravenna,  was  made  Legate 
of  the  Apostolic  See.  This  Legate  was  born  in  Tuscany  in  the 
district  of  Pistoia,  and  being  yet  a  poor  scholar  he  came  to  the 
city  of  Toledo,  desiring  to  learn  the  art  of  necromancy.  And 
as  he  sat  one  day  in  that  city  under  a  portico,  a  certain  knight 
asked  him  what  he  sought.  So  when  he  said  he  was  a  Lombard, 
and  why  he  was  come  thither,  the  knight  led  him  to  a  certain 
great  master  of  that  art,  an  old  man  of  hideous  aspect  with  a 
hood  over  his  head,  to  whom  the  knight  recommended  him, 
begging  the  necromancer  for  his  sake  to  instruct  this  stranger 
in  his  art.  The  old  man  led  him  therefore  into  his  chamber, 
and  gave  him  a  book,  saying,  '  When  I  am  gone  from  thee 
thou  must  stay  and  study  here.'  Then  departing  from  him, 
he  diligently  closed  the  door,  and  the  whole  chamber.  So,  as 
that  youth  read  in  the  book,  suddenly  there  appeared  demons 
of  manifold  kinds  and  shapes ;  for  all  seemed  full  of  mice,  cats, 
dogs,  and  pigs,  which  ran  tumultuously  hither  and  thither 
through  the  chamber.  And  forasmuch  as  he  spake  nothing  to 
them,  suddenly  he  found  himself  sitting  outside  the  chamber 
in  the  street ;  and  the  Master  came  and  said  to  him,  '  What 
dost  thou  here,  son  ? '  Then  he  told  the  Master  what  had 
befallen  him,  so  that  the  old  man  brought  him  again  into  the 
chamber,  and  departed  from  him  as  before,  and  locked  the  door 
with  care.  And  as  he  read,  there  appeared  a  multitude  of  boys 
and  girls,  running  hither  and  thither  through  the  chamber.     For- 

*  Note  that  Salimbene  omita  '  the  hoaband  of  one  wife,'  thus  makinc;  the  rest 
of  the  Latin  text  read  aa  though  chUdren  were  oaed  only  metaphorically  of  the 
Bishop's  flock. 


262  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

asrauch  as  again  he  spoke  nought  to  them,  he  again  found  himself 
sitting  without  in  the  street ;  wherefore  his  Master  said  :  '  Ye 
Lombards  are  unfit  for  this  art ;  leave  it  to  us  Spaniards,  who  are 
fierce  men,  and  like  unto  demons.  But  thou,  son,  go  to  Paris, 
and  study  in  Holy  Scripture ;  for  thou  shalt  yet  be  a  mighty 
man  in  the  church  of  God.'  So  he  went  and  studied  at  Paris, 
and  learned  excellently,  and  returned  to  Lombardy  and  dwelt  at 
Ferrara  with  the  Bishop  of  Garsendino,  who  was  one  of  the  sons 
of  Manfred  of  Modena,  and  brother  of  the  Abbot  of  Pomposia. 
And  the  Bishop  made  him  his  chamberlain  ;  and  after  his  death 
another  Bishop  was  elected,  after  whom  this  Philip  was  elected 
Bishop  of  Ferrara,  and  remained  many  years  Bishop  Elect, 
until  he  was  made  Bishop  of  Ravenna.  And  when  Pope  Inno- 
cent IV  came  from  Lyons  to  Ferrara,  this  Bishop  there  " 

[Here  some  scandalised  reader  has  torn  a  leaf  out  of  the  manu- 
script, which  (as  we  learn  from  the  ancient  table  of  contents) 
related  "  how  a  certain  nun  disposed  in  her  heart  to  forsake  God 
unless  He  should  come  to  her  succour."  The  text  then  proceeds  :] 
"  It  came  to  pass  therefore  at  the  time  when  kings  go  forth  to 
war,  that  the  Lord  Philip,  Archbishop  of  Ravenna,  having  been 
made  Legate  by  the  Lord  Pope,  came  to  Ferrara.  (Now  that 
which  men  call  "  the  time  when  kings  go  forth  to  war  "  is  the 
month  of  May,  for  then  the  weather  is  quiet  and  jocund  and 
temperate,  wherein  the  nightingale  tunes  her  song,  and  grass  is 
found  abundantly  for  oxen  and  horses).  The  Legate  then,  being 
at  Ferrara,  gathered  together  all  the  citizens  of  that  city  and 
strangers  from  Padua,  and  preached  from  the  great  door  of  the 
Cathedral  church  of  St.  George,  opposite  to  the  church  of  San 
Romano.  And  all  the  monks  and  friars  were  there  and  all  folk 
of  the  city,  both  great  and  small ;  for  they  hoped  to  hear  great 
marvels  of  God.  Moreover,  I  also  was  by  the  Archbishop's 
side,  and  Buongiorno  the  Jew,  who  was  my  familiar  friend,  sat 
by  my  side,  for  he  also  would  fain  listen.  The  Legate  therefore, 
standing  in  the  gate  of  the  Lord's  house,  began  to  preach  in  a 
loud  voice,  saying  briefly  that  the  time  for  words  was  now  past, 
and  we  must  keep  silence,  for  the  time  is  come  to  do  those  deeds 
which  words  do  but  represent.  And  he  published  how  he  had 
been  made  Legate  by  the  Lord  Pope  against  Ezzelino  da 
Romano,  and  how  he  would  fain  raise  an  army  of  Crusaders  to 
recover  the  city  of  Padua,  and  restore  the  expelled  Paduans. 
And  whosoever  would  be  of  his  army  in  that  expedition  should 
have  Indulgence  and  remission  and  absolution  of  all  his  sins. 
And  let  none  say  :  '  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  fight  against  that 
man  of  the  Devil  whom  even  demons  fear,'  for  it  shall  not  be 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  263 

impossible  with  God,  who  will  fight  for  us.  And  the  Legate 
added,  '  I  say  to  you,  to  the  honour  and  praise  of  God  Almighty, 
and  of  the  blessed  Peter  and  Paul,  his  Apostles,  and  likewise  of 
the  blessed  Anthony,  whose  body  is  held  in  veneration  at  Padua, 
that  if  I  had  in  my  army  none  but  the  orphans,  the  wards  and  the 
widows,  and  the  rest  who  have  been  afflicted  by  this  man 
Ezzelino,  yet  even  with  these  I  would  hope  to  have  the  victory 
over  that  limb  of  Satan  and  son  of  iniquity.  For  now  the  cry 
of  his  wickedness  is  gone  up  to  Heaven,  and  therefore  they  shall 
fight  from  Heaven  against  him.'  So  when  he  had  finished  his 
speech  his  hearers  rejoiced :  and  he  gathered  together  an  army, 
and  in  due  time  marched  forward  to  assault  the  city  of  Padua, 
which  Ezzelino  had  most  strongly  fortified,  garrisoning  it  with 
1,500  knights,  all  stout  men  and  skilled  in  war.  Yet  he  himself 
dwelt  elsewhere,  for  he  feared  as  little  for  Padua  as  God  fears 
lest  the  sky  should  fall,  especially  since  the  city  had  three  rings 
of  walls,  and  a  moat  both  within  and  without,  besides  the  knights 
and  a  multitude  of  people.  For  he  held  the  Legate's  army,  with 
regard  to  their  fitness  to  storm  such  a  city,  as  a  mere  unarmed 
rabble  without  either  courage  or  skill  in  war.  Yet  in  that  army 
there  was  a  certain  lay-brother  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor,  a 
Paduan  by  birth,  called  Clarello,  whom  I  have  seen  and  known 
well,  who  was  a  man  of  great  courage,  and  whose  heart's  desire 
was  that  the  Paduans  who  had  long  been  in  exile  should  return 
now  to  their  city.  Seeing  then  that  this  occasion  was  favourable 
to  him,  and  knowing  how  God  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of 
the  world  to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty,  he  undertook 
to  be  the  standard-bearer  of  that  army,  if  haply  God  would  give 
them  salvation  through  his  hand.  Wherefore  he  strode  before 
the  army  and  found  a  peasant  there  with  three  mares,  whereof  he 
took  one  by  force  and,  mounting  it,  caught  in  one  hand  a  pole  to 
serve  him  for  a  lance,  and  began  to  gallop  hither  and  thither, 
shouting  valiantly,  '  Ho !  ye  soldiers  of  Christ  1  Ho  !  ye  soldiers 
of  the  blessed  Peter  !  Ho  1  ye  soldiers  of  the  blessed  Anthony  ! 
Cast  away  fear  from  you,  be  strong  in  the  Lord.'  In  brief,  the 
army  was  so  cheered  and  comforted  by  these  words  of  his  that 
it  was  ready  to  follow  him  whithersoever  he  might  go  ;  and  thus 
cried  Brother  Clarello,  '  On  !  On  I  At  them  !  At  them  !  Salvation 
is  the  Lord's.  Let  God  arise,  and  let  His  enemies  be  scattered  ! ' 
So  the  armv  followed  him  as  its  hemld  and  standard-bearer, 
and  set  itseli  to  storm  the  city.  But  the  Lord  struck  fear  into 
the  hearts  of  those  that  were  within,  so  that  they  dared  not 
resist.  For  there  was  in  the  army  another  lay  brother,  also  of 
the   Friars   Minor,  a  holy  man  and  devout,  who  in  the  world 


264  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

had  beeu  the  Lord  Ezzelino's  master-engineer,  to  build  his 
machines  and  catapults  and  mangonels  and  battering  rams,  for 
the  storming  of  cities  and  castles.  Him  the  Legate  command- 
ed by  holy  obedience  to  strip  off  the  habit  of  St.  Francis  (for 
the  Legate  loved  that  Order),  and  to  put  on  a  white  habit,  and 
build  such  an  engine  as  might  enable  them  to  take  the  citj 
bj  storm.®  So  tne  Friar  humbly  obeyed  him,  and  forthwith 
built  an  engine  which  in  front  was  all  fire,  and  behind  was  full  of 
armed  men  ;  and  the  city  was  soon  taken.  Then  the  Church 
party,  when  they  had  entered  the  city,  would  neither  hurt  any  in 
the  city,  nor  did  they  slay  nor  take  prisoners  nor  spoil  goods, 
nor  carry  away  anything  ;  but  they  spared  all  men  and  let  them 
go  free.  And  the  others  held  themselves  happy  in  their  mere 
freedom  from  prison  and  other  harm  ;  so  the  whole  city  exulted 
and  rejoiced.^  The  Legate  therefore,  although  his  name  had 
been  renowned  even  before  this  time,  yet  was  he  far  more  renown- 
ed after  the  capture  of  the  city  of  Padua.  In  old  days  he  had 
been  Legate  in  Germany,  by  reason  of  the  Landgrave  who  had 
been  made  Emperor  after  Frederick's  deposition,  [z.e.,  Heinrich 
Raspe,  d.  1247.]  And  at  this  time  there  were  in  Germany  three 
Provinces,  wherein  were  certain  brethren  of  great  dignity 
[sol€mnes,2  who,  despising  the  discipline  of  the  Order,  would  not 
obey  the  Ministers ;  and  when  they  came  to  consult  this  Legate, 
he  took  them  and  handed  them  over  to  the  power  of  the  Minis- 
ters, that  they  might  exercise  judgment  and  justice  on  them 
according  as  the  statutes  of  the  Order  demanded.^  Now  it  came 
to  pass  that  the  Landgrave  died  ;  and  the  Legate,  being  in 
another  city,  and  hearing  of  the  death  of  the  Landgrave,  feared 
Frederick's  son,  Conrad,  who  caused  Germany  to  be  most  strictly 
guarded.  He  commanded,  therefore,  one  of  his  household  on  no 
account  to  open  his  chamber  to  any  man  for  several  days  ;  for 
he  purposed  to  flee,  lest  he  should  be  utterly  taken.  Then, 
changing  his  garments,  and  taking  with  him  a  single  comrade 
only,  he  came  furtively  and  secretly  to  a  convent  of  the  Friars 
Minor,  where  he  called  the  Guardian  apart,  and  said  to  him, 
*  Knowest  thou  me  ?  '  And  he  answered,  '  Truly,  nay  1 '  Then 
said  the  Legate,  *  I  know  thee  well :  and  I  command  thee  by 
holy  obedience  to  keep  in  thine  own  bosom  all  that  I  shall  tell 
thee,  and  to  disclose  it  to  none  until  I  shall  give  thee  leave  ;  and 
to  speak  to  no  man  but  in  my  presence,  and  never  in  thy  native 
German,  but  ever  in  the  Latin  tongue.  The  Landgrave  is  dead, 
and  I  am  the  Legate.  Thou  shalt  therefore  give  me  and  my 
comrade  a  habit  of  the  Order,  and  without  delay  thou  shalt  give 
me  means  to  flee,  and  lead  me  to  a  safe  place,  that  I  be  not  taken 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  265 

bj  Conrad.'  To  be  brief,  all  this  was  done  obediently  and 
gladly  ;  but  when  the  Guardian  would  have  led  them  forth  from 
the  city,  he  found  one  gate  shut,  and  likewise  the  second  and  the 
third  :  yet  through  the  third,  by  a  space  which  was  beneath  the 
gate,  they  saw  a  great  dog  creep  out,  and  it  seemed  to  them  that 
this  was  the  only  way  whereby  they  also  might  pass.  But  when 
they  attempted  it,  it  was  found  that  the  Legate  was  too  fat  to 
pass  through  ;  but  the  Guai-dian  stood  upon  his  body,  and  flat- 
tened him  by  stamping  it  to  the  ground,  and  thus  he  crept  forth. 
When  therefore  all  four  were  gone  forth,  they  passed  on  and 
came  that  day  to  dinner  at  a  certain  city,  wherein  was  a  Convent 
of  Friars  Minor.  And  when  these  asked  of  the  Guardian  who 
were  these  friends  whom  he  brought  with  him,  he  answered, 
'  They  are  great  Lombards.  For  God's  sake  show  them  charity 
and  courtesy  and  do  them  service.'  So  the  guardian  of  that 
house  came  with  ten  brethren  of  the  convent,  and  ate  with  them 
in  the  guest-house  with  the  greatest  familiarity  and  solace,  being 
much  comforted  to  have  such  guests.  When  therefore  the  Le- 
gate saw  that  he  was  in  a  safe  place,  and  had  escaped  all  perils, 
at  the  end  of  dinner  he  gave  leave  to  the  Guardian  his  guide 
and  fellow-traveller  to  make  him  known.  Then  that  stranger- 
guardian  who  had  travelled  with  him,  said  to  the  brethren, 
'  Know,  dearest  friends,  that  this  Brother  with  whom  ye  have 
eaten  is  the  Legate  of  the  Lord  Pope,  and  therefore  have  I 
brought  him  to  you,  for  that  the  Landgrave  is  dead,  and  here  at 
last  we  have  no  further  fear  of  Conrad.  But  even  the  comrade 
who  travelled  with  me  has  known  none  of  these  things  until 
this  very  hour.'  The  brethren,  hearing  this,  began  to  tremble  as 
a  reed  when  it  is  shaken  with  the  water.  But  the  Legate  said 
to  them,  '  Fear  not,  brethren  1  I  know  you,  that  ye  have  God's 
love  in  you :  ye  have  busily  ministered  to  us,  ye  have  shown  us 
courtesy  and  charity  and  familiarity ;  the  Lord  repay  you  I  I 
was  even  heretofore  a  friend  to  the  Order  of  St.  Francis :  and 
that  friendship  will  I  now  hold  fast  all  the  days  of  my  life.' 
And  so  in  truth  it  was.  For  he  gave  to  the  Friars  Minor  the 
church  of  St.  Peter  the  Great  at  Ravenna,'  and  granted  us  every 
favour  which  we  sought  from  him,  of  preaching,  of  hearing  con- 
fessions, and  of  absolving  from  all  cases  of  conscience  which 
were  reserved  for  himself.  He  had  a  terrible  and  savage 
household,  yet  they  all  revered  the  Friars  Minor  as  apostles  of 
Christ,  knowing  that  their  Lord  loved  us  dearly.  For  they 
were  full  forty  men-at-arms,  whom  he  ever  led  with  him,  to  be 
guardians  of  his  life  and  person  ;  and  they  feared  him  as  they 
feared  the  Devil.     Nay,  Ezzelino  da  Romano  was  scarcely  less  n\r*U 


266  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

feared  ;  for  he  gave  his  servants  most  grievous  punishments. 
One  day,  as  he  went  from  Ravenna  to  Argenta  (which  is  the 
Archiepiscopal  palace),  he  caused  one  of  his  servants  to  be 
bound  with  a  rope  and  plunged  into  the  water,  and  thus  they 
dragged  him  bound  to  me  ship  through  the  rolling  waves,  as 
though  he  were  a  sturgeon,  because  he  had  forgotten  to  bring 
salt.  Another  time  he  caused  a  certain  other  servant  to  be 
bound  to  a  great  pole  and  turned  as  on  a  spit,  before  the  fire  ; 
and  when  the  men  of  his  household  wept  for  him  with  pity  and 
compassion,  the  Legate,  seeing  the  cruel  sight,  said  to  them, '  Poor 
wretches  I  Do  ye  weep  so  soon  ? '  and  so  bade  that  he  should  be 
taken  away  from  the  fire.  Yet  the  man  had  already  borne  bitter 
anguish  of  soul  and  much  roasting.  Moreover,  the  Legate  cast 
into  chains  a  certain  Amanato,  his  steward,  a  Tuscan ;  and  the 
rats  devoured  him  in  the  prison,  for  he  was  accused  of  having 
wasted  his  master's  goods.  Many  other  cruelties  he  practised  on 
those  who  were  of  his  household,  for  his  own  vengeance  and  their 
punishment,  and  to  strike  fear  into  others.  And  therefore  God 
suffered  him  to  be  taken,  while  he  was  yet  Legate,  by  Ezzelino, 
who  kept  him  carefully,  and  took  him  whithersoever  he  went, 
that  he  might  the  more  carefully  guard  him.  Yet  he  treated 
him  with  honour  and  reverence,  although  he  had  taken  Padua 
from  him.  But  He  who  liberated  Manasses  from  his  dungeon 
and  restored  him  to  his  kingdom,  liberated  likewise  this  Legate 
in  the  manner  following.  A  certain  man  of  Reggio,  named 
Gerardo  de'  Campsori,  drew  him  forth  from  Ezzelino's  dungeon 
and  let  him  down  by  a  rope  from  an  upper  chamber :  and  so  he 
escaped  in  the  Lord's  name  from  Ezzelino's  hands.  But  he  was 
not  unmindful  of  this  loving  kindness,  but  repaid  the  same  man 
by  making  him  a  CardinaP"  of  Ravenna.  Moreover,  to  Brother 
Enverardo  of  Brescia,  a  great  Lector  of  the  Order  of  Friars 
Minor,  he  gave  the  bishopric  of  Cesena,  for  that  he  was  of  his 
household,  and  had  been  taken  prisoner  with  him ;  which 
Brother  Enverardo,  after  the  death  of  Ezzelino,  was  freed  from 
prison  with  all  the  other  prisoners  whom  that  accursed  tyrant 
kept  in  ward.  Moreover,  this  aforesaid  Archbishop  [of 
Ravenna]  had  two  nephews,  Francis  and  Philip  ;  but  Philip 
was  his  own  son,  and  was  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  old,  comely 
and  fair  as  a  second  Absalom  :  and  this  Lord  Philip,  Archbishop 
of  Ravenna,  and  Legate  of  the  Roman  court,  loved  him  as  his 
own  soul.  Whoever  therefore  was  willing  to  fill  the  hands  of 
these  two  men  with  gifts  might  have  a  prebend  or  whatsoever 
he  demanded  from  the  Archbishop  ;  and  thus  they  became  rich 
beyond  measure.     He  had  also  a  fair  daughter,  whom  he  would 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  267 

have  given  to  wife  to  the  Lord  Jaeopo  di  Bernardo  :  but  he 
would  not  take  her,  both  because  she  was  not  of  lawful  birth, 
and  for  that  he  would  not  take  a  dowry  of  Church  goods,  and 
also  because  he  purposed  to  become  a  Friar  Minor  and  die  in 
that  Order,  as  in  truth  he  did.  Moreover,  the  said  Archbishop 
was  sometimes  so  melancholy  and  gloomy  and  furious,  and  such 
a  son  of  Belial,  that  none  could  speak  with  him.  But  to  me  he 
was  always  kind  and  familiar  and  courteous  and  liberal ;  for  he 
gave  me  the  relics  of  the  blessed  Eliseus,^^  of  whom  we  read  in 
the  Book  of  Kings,  which  were  in  a  certain  city  called  Caesarea, 
hard  by  Ravenna,  in  the  Monastery  of  St.  Lawrence,  in  a  stone 
coffin  within  the  royal  chapel ;  and  I  carried  off  the  principal 
and  greatest  bones  of  that  body,  and  placed  them  within  the 
high  altar  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Parma,  where  they  are  even 
unto  this  day,  with  the  following  epitaph,  besides  that  which 
I  had  affixed  first  in  leaden  letters  : — 

Hie  virtute  Dei — patris  osaa  manent  Helysei, 
QiUB  Salimbene — detuUt  ossa  bene. 

But  I  could  not  have  the  head  of  Eliseus,  because  the  Austin 
friars  had  stolen  it  and  carried  it  away  unbidden.  For  the 
Archbishop  cared  more  for  war  than  for  relics  of  Saints.  Once 
when  he  was  Legate  he  came  to  Faenza,  where  1  then  dwelt : 
and  because  he  needed  to  enter  a  convent  of  the  Order  of  St. 
Clara,  and  the  Abbess  wished  to  speak  long  with  him,  he  sent 
for  some  brethren  to  be  his  comrades,  both  for  honesty's  sake  and 
for  his  own  honour.  For  he  loved  honour  above  all  men  in  the 
world,  as  my  judgment  goes  ;  and  above  all  men  in  the  world  he 
knew  how  to  lord  it  and  play  the  baron,  as  I  have  heard  from 
others,  and  as  it  seemed  to  me  likewise.  We  were  therefore  ten 
brethren  that  bare  him  company  ;  and  after  we  had  warmed 
ourselves  by  the  fire  (for  it  was  a  Saturday  morning  in  the 
month  of  January,  on  the  feast  of  St.  Timothy),  he  robed 
himself  in  sacerdotal  vestments,  that  he  might  enter  the  Con- 
vent decently  and  honestly.  And  when  he  would  have  put  on 
his  alb,  and  found  it  too  close  in  the  sleeves,  he  was  troubled. 
And  the  Bishop  of  Faenza  said  to  him, '  It  is  not  close  for  me, 
for  I  put  it  on  easily.'  To  whom  the  Archbishop  said, '  How  I 
Is  this  alb  thine  ?  '  '  It  is  mine,'  said  the  Bishop.  '  And  where 
then  is  mine  ? '  said  the  Archbishop  ;  and  presently  it  was  found 
that  one  of  his  servants  had  earned  it  to  Ravenna.  And  the  Arch- 
bishop said,  '  In  truth,  I  wonder  much  at  mine  own  long-suffering, 
yet  will  I  give  him  punishment !  I  cannot  inflict  it  here  in  his 


268  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

absence  ;  but  delay  is  no  robbery  ! '  And  I  said  to  the  Arch- 
bishop, *  Have  patience,  Father,  for  "  patience  hath  her  perfect 
work.  And  the  Wise  Man  saith  "  By  patience  a  prince  shall 
be  appeased,  and  a  soft  tongue  shall  break  harness."  '  Then  the 
Archbishop  said,  '  The  Wise  man  saith  also  in  the  xiii  chapter  of 
Proverbs  "  He  that  spareth  the  rod  hateth  his  son  ;  but  he  that 
loveth  him  correcteth  him  betime."  '*  I,  seeing  that  the  Arch- 
bishop was  wholly  purposed  in  his  own  heart  to  punish  the 
offender,  said,  *  Father,  let  us  leave  these  words  and  speak  of 
another  matter.  Do  you  celebrate  ? '  And  he  said,  '  No,  I  will 
that  thou  sing  Mass.'  And  1  said  to  him,  '  I  will  obey  you 
and  sing  Mass.'  Then  said  the  Archbishop,  *  Will  ye  that  I 
prophesy  to  you  of  the  Pope  to  be  ?  '  (for  the  Papacy  had  been 
vacant  since  the  death  of  Pope  Urban  IV  of  Troyes.)  And 
we  said,  '  Yea,  Father,  tell  us  who  shall  be  the  Pope.'  And  he 
said  :  '  Pope  Gregory  IX  loved  much  the  Order  of  St. 
Francis.  Now  shall  succeed  Gregory  X,  who  shall  dearly 
love  the  Friars  Minor.'  (For  he  thought  to  speak  thus 
of  himself  ;  for  he  desired  much  to  have  the  Papacy,  and  even 
hoped  it ;  both  because  he  was  a  friend  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and 
because  the  master  of  necromancy  at  Toledo  had  foretold  that  he 
would  be  great  in  the  Church  of  God,  and  also  because  he  saw 
himself  already  great,  and  that  sometimes  the  Cardinals  were  at 
discord  in  the  Papal  election,  and  that  at  times  men  spake  his 
name  in  this  matter.)  Then  I  answered  and  said,  '  Father,  if  the 
Lord  will,  you  will  be  that  Gregory  X  :  and  you  have  loved  us, 
and  will  love  us  yet  more.'  Yet  it  came  not  thus  to  pass  ;  for  no 
Gregory  X  succeeded  then,  but  Clement  IV  ;  nor  did  this  Arch- 
bishop of  Ravenna  ever  come  to  the  Papacy.  So  when  this 
Archbishop  and  Legate  had  spoken  the  aforesaid  words,  he  added, 
*  These  are  they  who  shall  enter  the  Convent  :  firstly,  all  the 
Friars  who  are  here  ;  then,  of  mine  own  company,  let  none  enter 
but  the  Bishop  of  Faenza,  the  Archdeacon  of  Ravenna,  and  the 
Podesta  of  this  city.'  When  therefore  we  were  come  to  the  door 
of  the  church,  we  found  there  a  lay-brother  with  a  smoking 
censer,  and  when  he  had  censed  the  Legate  the  latter  took  the 
censer  from  his  hands,  and  censed  each  friar  as  he  entered  the 
church,  saying  thrice,  de  licenso  alifrati  me,  which  being  inter- 
preted is  '  Incense  to  my  Brethren.'  Then  we  went  to  the  stairs, 
and  he  leant  on  me,  for  honour's  sake  and  for  help,  both  in 
mounting  and  descending ;  so  that  I  held  up  his  right  arm,  and 

*  This  text  was  taken  in  the  Middle  Ages  to  apply  equally  to  servants :  See 
the  Moral  Tales  of  the  Franciscan  Nicole  Bozou.     (p.  25.) 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  269 

the  Archdeacon  of  Ravenna  his  left.  And  the  church  -was  on  an 
upper  floor,  and  the  whole  Convent  of  those  ladies,  to  the  number 
of  72,  was  there  gathered  together;  and  after  Mass  had  been 
solemnly  celebrated,  and  all  our  council  and  business  was  ended, 
we  went  out  from  the  Convent  and  found  a  plenteous  fire  kindled. 
And  forthwith  the  bell  ran  to  Nones,  and  the  Legate  took  leave, 
and  said,  '1  invite  ye  all  to  dine  with  me.'  I  believe  that  he 
said  full  ten  times  over  in  the  Tuscan  tongue,  mo  e  ve  'nvito^  e  si 
ve  rcnvito^  which  is,  being  translated,  *  1  invite  you  to  dinner,  and 
again  I  reinvite  you.'  Nevertheless  those  brethren  were  so  fear- 
ful and  shamefaced  that  I  could  not  bring  with  me  but  two  ;  the 
rest  went  to  eat  in  the  Convent  of  the  Brethren.  When  there- 
fore I  had  come  to  the  Bishop's  palace,  the  Legate  said  to  me, 
*  To-day  is  the  Sabbath-day,  and  the  Bishop  and  Podesta  will  eat 
flesh.  Let  us  part  from  them,  and  go  to  the  hall  of  the  Palace, 
where  we  shall  have  abundantly  to  eat.'  And  he  kept  me  and 
made  me  sit  by  his  side  at  table  ;  and  oft-times  he  said  how  he 
took  it  exceeding  ill  that  I  had  not  honoured  him  by  bringing 
other  Brethren  with  me  ;  for  he  had  invited  them  all.  And  I 
dared  not  tell  him  that  they  would  not  come,  for  he  would  have 
taken  it  too  ill  ;  but  I  told  him  that  another  time  he  should  have 
the  whole  Convent.  For  he  rejoiced  much  when  men  honoured 
him.  Moreover  the  Archdeacon  bare  us  company,  and  sat  at  a 
lower  table  by  himself ;  but  he  was  my  friend  and  acquaintance 
and  sent  me  a  present." 

Here  follows  a  long  digression  on  the  Council  of  Ravenna,  in 
which  Philip,  despite  his  own  lax  morals,  stoutly  supported  the 
Friars  in  their  attempt  to  reform  the  morals  of  the  parish  clergy. 
Salimbene  speaks  again  of  his  hopes  of  the  Papacy,  and  their 
repeated  disappointments ;  and  he  gives  a  pathetic  picture  of  the 
great  man's  last  days.  (429)  "  So  the  Lord  Philip,  Archbishop 
of  Ravenna,  after  that  he  had  fought  many  fights  and  gained 
many  victories,  becamed  aged  and  weighed  aown  with  years  and 
fell  sick  of  the  sickness  whereof  he  died.  And,  wishing  to  die 
in  his  own  land,  he  let  himself  be  carried  on  a  wooden  litter  by 
twenty  men,  ten  and  ten  bv  relays ;  and  when  he  came  to  Imola, 
he  would  fain  stay  in  the  Convent  of  the  Friars  Minor,  where  at 
that  time  I  dwelt ;  and  we  gave  him  the  whole  Refectory  to  him- 
self, and  he  stayed  with  us  but  one  day.  And  when  he  was  come 
to  Pistoia,  he  sent  for  Brother  Thomas  of  Pavia,  who  was  his 
acquaintance  and  friend  of  old,  and  confessed  to  him  and  ordered 
well  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul ;  and  so  he  rested  in  peace,  and 
was  buried  in  the  church  of  the  Friars  Minor  at  Pistoia.  (430) 
Moreover,  this  Lord  Philip,  when  he  was  in  his   villa  called 


27©  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Argenta  on  the  banks  of  the  Po,  and  when  he  went  to  and  fro 
through  his  palace,  was  wont  to  go  singing  some  responsory  or 
antiphon  in  praise  of  the  glorious  Virgin,  from  one  corner  to 
another  of  that  palace.  And  in  summer  time  he  would  drink  at 
each  corner ;  for  at  each  corner  of  the  palace  he  had  a  pitcher  of 
excellent  and  noble  wine  in  the  coldest  water.  For  he  was  a 
mighty  drinker,  and  loved  not  water  with  his  wine,  wherefore 
also  he  loved  much  the  treatise  which  Primas  wrote  against 
mixing  water  with  wine,  which  we  will  perhaps  write  in  this  book 
for  the  solace  of  some.  Yet,  you  must  know  that  water  is  most 
profitable  in  wine  for  many  reasons :  for  watered  wine  doth  not 
hurt  the  head  or  gnaw  the  stomach,  or  make  the  mouth  to  stink  or 
impede  the  tongue,  or  inebriate  or  make  a  man  wordy  or  provoke 
to  lust :  for  (as  St.  Jerome  saith)  the  belly  that  revelleth  with 
wine  is  quick  to  foam  into  lust."  With  which  excuse  Salimbene 
quotes  171  extenso  these  most  unedifying  verses  of  Primas. 

The  next  whom  he  names  (433)  was  not  strictly  a  Legate, 
(though  Salimbene  calls  him  so),  but  a  Bishop  of  Mantua  sent 
by  the  Pope  to  preach  the  crusade  in  Lombardy.  He  again  was 
"  a  mighty  drinker,"  and  not  unnaturally  subject  to  fits  of 
religious  depression  :  yet  he  was  "  a  courteous  man,  humble  and 
kindly  and  open-handed  and  liberal."  He  had  been  a  personal 
friend  of  Salimbene's  eldest  brother ;  and  one  day  our  autobio- 
grapher  sat  a  long  while  with  him  in  the  palace  where  he  lodged 
on  his  way  through  Ravenna.  The  Legate  rose  at  last  and  went 
to  the  window  :  "  Where,  then,  is  your  convent,  Brother  Salim- 
bene ?  "  "  Then  I  pointed  it  out  to  him  :  a  great  church  with  a 
tall  campanile  like  the  donjon-tower  of  a  fortress,"  in  the  shadow 
of  which  Dante's  bones  still  lie.  "  Then  said  the  Bishop, '  Do  you 
believe,  Brother  Salimbene,  that  we  bishops  can  come  to  heaven — 
we  who  are  in  so  many  labours  and  cares  and  anxieties  by  reason 
of  the  flocks  committed  to  us — unless  you  Religious,  who  are  in 
familiar  converse  with  God,  help  us  with  your  frocks  and  hoods  ?  '  " 
Salimbene  comforted  the  Bishop  with  Pro  v.  xv.  13,  and  xii.  25, 
and  with  a  long  quotation  from  St.  Bernard's  sermons  on  the  Can- 
ticles, in  which  the  saint  argues  that  the  monk,  who  from  his  safe 
castle  of  contemplation  looks  down  upon  the  sin-spotted  Bishop 
in  the  outer  world,  is  like  the  woman  at  her  spinning-wheel  who 
should  scold  the  man  returning  from  battle ;  for  (quotes  St. 
Bernard  from  Ecclesiasticus)  "better  is  the  iniquity  of  a  man 
than  a  woman  who  doth  well."  "  These  things  "  (pursues  Salim- 
bene) "  are  said  [by  St.  Bernard]  against  the  double  temptation 
by  which  men  of  Religion  are  oft-times  urged  of  the  Devil  either 
to  run  after  the  glory  of  Bishops  or  to  judge  rashly  of  their 


Neither  Fish  nor  Flesh.  271 

excesses.  So  when  I  had  quoted  all  these  sayings,  the  Bishop 
said  :  '  May  the  Lord  reward  thee,  Brother  Salimbene,  for  thou 
hast  given  me  excellent  comfort :  thou  art  in  truth,  in  the  words 
of  Ecclesiasticus,  "  a  man  of  counsel  who  will  not  destroy  under- 
standing." '  After  him  another  Legate  was  sent  to  Lombardy, 
a  Cardinal  who  had  been  Archbishop  of  Embrun.  (323)  He 
was  a  man  of  worth  in  knowledge  and  song  and  letters  and  honest 
and  holy  life :  and  once  when  a  minstrel  had  played  his  viol  in 
the  Legate's  presence  and  begged  for  some  gift,  the  Archbishop 
answered  '  if  thou  wilt  fain  eat,  I  will  give  thee  gladly  for  God's 
sake  :  but  for  thy  song  and  viol  I  would  give  thee  nought,  for  I 
can  sing  and  play  as  well  as  thou.'  He  always  kept  with  him  two 
Brethren  Minor.  (435)  He  transformed  the  Alleluia  of  St. 
Francis  O  patriarcha  pauperuniy  into  a  hymn  to  the  same  air  for 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  O  consolatrix  pauperum  :  and  he  wrote  the 
Siimma  Copiosa*.  After  him  a  certain  [Papal]  chaplain  was 
sent  by  the  Lord  Pope,  who  would  have  gathered  knights  from 
every  city  in  help  of  King  Charles  against  Manfred.  When  he 
came  on  this  busmess  to  Faenza,  he  gathered  together  the  Friars 
Minor  and  the  Preachers  in  the  Bishop's  chamber,  who  was  there 
with  his  canons ;  and  I  likewise  was  present  and  heard  his  words. 
And  he  concluded  our  business  in  few  words  after  the  fashion  of 
[his  own]  French,  who  speak  briefly,  and  not  like  the  men  of 
Cremona,  who  delight  in  much  speech :  for  he  reviled  Manfred 
and  accused  him  to  us  of  manifold  crimes.  Then  he  said  that 
the  French  army  would  come  quickly,  and  this  was  true,  as  I  saw 
with  mine  own  eyes  at  the  Christmastide  next  following.  Lastly 
he  promised  that  the  matter  whereon  they  marched  would  quickly 
end  well  with  victory ;  and  so  it  was :  yet  some  of  his  hearers 
scoffed  and  derided  him,  saying  :  Ver,  ver,  cum  bon  batoiiy  which 
was  to  say  that  the  French  should  have  the  victory  with  good 
staves.  After  him  another  chaplain  was  sent  as  Legate,  who 
contrived  excellently  to  bring  back  the  Church  exiles  of  Cremona 
to  their  city ;  for  they  had  long  been  exiles  and  wanderers. 
Moreover  he  subtly  expelled  Buoso  da  Duera  and  Pallavicino 
from  the  lordship  of  Cremona,  which  they  had  long  held  and 
done  much  ill.  So  the  Church  exiles  returned  to  Cremona  and 
gave  them  tit  for  tat,  destroying  their  towers  and  houses  and 
palaces  and  seizing  their  lands  and  possessions,  as  is  the  custom 
m  Lombardy.  This  Legate  was  followed  by  Cardinal  Latino,  a 
young  man  and  lean  of  flesh,  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Preachers, 

*  A  standard  commentary  on  the  Canon  Law  which  goes  by  the  name  of  his 
cardinalate,  Hoatiensia. 


272  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

■whom  Pope  Nicholas  IV  had  made  Cardinal  and  Legate  for  his 
kindred's  sake.  (169)  He  troubled  all  the  ladies  with  a  certain 
Constitution  which  he  promulgated,  wherein  it  was  written  that 
all  women  should  have  garments  of  length  to  reach  to  the  ground, 
and  onlj  the  measure  of  a  single  palm  further  ;  for  before  this 
they  trailed  along  the  ground  tails  of  garments  a  whole  ell  and  a 
half  long,  whereof  the  Poet  Patecchio  writeth  '  And  trains  of 
cloth,  long-trailing  in  the  dust.'  And  the  Bishop  caused  this 
Constitution  to  be  preached  in  all  the  churches,  and  imposed  it 
strictly  upon  the  women,  and  that  no  priest  might  absolve  them  of 
their  sins  but  if  they  obeyed  ;  which  to  the  women  was  bitterer 
than  any  death.  For  a  certain  lady  told  me  in  familiar  talk  that 
this  tail  was  dearer  to  her  than  the  whole  of  the  rest  of  the 
garments  wherewith  she  was  clad.  Moreover,  the  Cardinal 
enjoined  that  all  women,  both  maidens  and  noble  damsels,  married 
and  widows  and  matrons,  should  wear  veils  on  their  heads,  which 
was  horribly  grievous  to  them.  Yet  for  that  tribulation  they 
found  a  remedy,  which  for  their  tails  they  could  not ;  for  they 
caused  their  veils  to  be  made  of  fine  muslin  and  silk  inwoven  with 
gold,  wherein  they  showed  ten  times  fairer  than  before,  and  drew 
beholders'  eyes  all  the  more  to  wantonness."^**  The  twelfth  and 
last  Legate  was  that  Cardinal  Bernardo  of  whom  we  have  already 
heard  in  connexion  with  Pinamonte.  He  had  been  created  by 
Martin  IV,  and  was  his  willing  instrument  in  those  wars  of 
aggrandisement  in  which  he  wasted  such  incalculable  blood  and 
treasure.  Salimbene  constantly  speaks  with  horror  of  this 
slaughter  and  waste ;  he  tells  us  that  the  Pope  spent  "  1,400,000 
golden  florins,  which  sum  was  from  the  tithes  of  all  the  churches 
which  Pope  Gregory  X  had  gathered  for  the  succour  of  the 
Holy  Land,  and  which  was  thus  diverted  from  its  true  purpose." 
"  These  twelve  abovenamed,"  adds  our  chronicler,  "  were  the 
most  noble  Legates  and  Princes  of  the  Church  whom  the  Pope 
sent  into  Lombardy  and  Komagna,  not  only  for  the  salvation  of 
men's  souls,  but  also  against  the  wiles  of  that  Dragon,  the 
Emperor  Frederick,  who  strove  with  his  princes  and  followers  to 
overthrow  the  liberty  of  the  Church,  and  to  corrupt  the  unity  of 
the  faithful."  The  remedy,  however,  was  not  so  much  more 
tolerable  than  the  disease ;  and  we  can  well  understand  the  com- 
plaint which  Salimbene  ascribes  to  the  monks  of  Cluny  :  "  The 
Pope's  Legates  rob  the  churches  so  far  as  in  them  lies,  and  carry 
off  whatsoever  they  can."     (213) 


Chapter  XXII. 
The  Princes  of  the  Church. 


BUT  the  Papal  Legate  was  apt  to  be  statesman  first  and 
churchman  aften^vards : — the  nemesis  of  that  Temporal 
Power  in  which  so  manj  besides  Dante  have  seen  one  of  the 
weakest  points  of  the  Roman  Church.  Let  us  turn  now  to  other 
prelates  who  were  in  theory  spiritual  pastors  first  of  all,  and 
statesmen  only  accidentally. 

Salimbene  records  the  reign  of  sixteen  Popes  ;  for  most  of  these 
he  has  little  to  aay,  and  they  are  far  from  bulking  in  his  chronicle 
as  they  would  in  a  similar  book  of  modem  memoirs.  First,  in 
time  and  in  greatness,  comes  Innocent  III.  After  quoting 
Sicardo's  description  of  the  great  Pope's  energy  and  successes, 
Salimbene  goes  on  (31)  "The  Church  flourished  and  throve  in 
his  days,  holding  the  lordship  over  the  Koman  Empire  and  over 
all  the  kings  and  princes  oi  the  whole  world.  Yet  this  Pope 
sowed  the  seeds  of  the  cursed  dissensions  between  Church  and 
Empire,  with  his  chosen  Emperors  Otto  IV  and  Frederick  II, 
whom  he  exalted  and  entitled  Son  of  the  Church  :  but  herein  he 
may  be  excused,  that  he  meant  well.  And  note  that  this  Pope 
was  a  bold  man  and  stout  of  heart.  For  once  he  measured  on 
his  own  person  the  Seamless  Coat  of  our  Lord,  and  he  thought 
how  the  Lord  must  have  been  of  small  stature  ;  yet  when  he  had 
put  on  the  coat,  it  seemed  too  great  for  him  ;  so  he  feared  and 
venerated  the  relic,  as  was  seemly.  Moreover  he  would  some- 
times keep  a  book  before  him  when  he  preached  to  the  people ; 
and  when  his  chaplains  asked  why  he  did  this,  being  so  wise  and 
learned  a  man,  he  would  answer  and  say  '  I  do  it  for  your  sakes, 
to  give  you  an  example  :  for  ye  are  ignorant  and  yet  are  ashamed 
to  learn.'  Moreover,  he  was  a  man  who,  as  the  poet  saitli, 
mingled  his  business  at  times  with  mirth,  as  this  example  may 
show.  One  day  a  minstrel  of  the  Mark  of  Ancona  saluted  him, 
saying : 


274  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

'Papa  Innocentium, 
Doctoris  omnis  gentium, 
Salutat  te  Scatutius 
Et  habet  te  pro  dominas. ' 

And  when  the  Pope  asked,  '  Whence  art  thou  then,  Scatuzio  ?  ' 
he  answered: 

'  De  castro  Recanato, 
Et  ibi  fui  nato.' 

To  whom  the  Pope  said  : 

'  Si  veneris  Romam, 
Habebis  multam  bonam,' 

answering  purposely  in  false  grammar  to  the  false  grammar  of 
the  Minstrel.  Moreover,  one  day  as  he  preached  to  the  people, 
he  saw  how  a  certain  scholar  mocked  at  his  words.  So  when  his 
sermon  was  ended  he  called  him  apart  into  his  chamber  and 
asked  him  why  he  had  laughed  at  the  Word  of  God  which  is 
profitable  for  salvation  of  souls.  The  scholar  answered  that  the 
Pope's  were  mere  words,  but  that  he  himself  could  show  deeds,  as 
for  example  raising  of  the  dead  and  authority  over  demons.  So 
the  Pope  learned  from  him  that  he  was  a  necromancer  who  had 
studied  at  Toledo :  wherefore  he  besought  him  to  raise  a  certain 
dear  friend  of  his  own,  with  whom  he  would  fain  speak  and  hear 
of  his  soul's  health.  So  they  chose  a  desert  and  secret  spot  in 
Rome,  whereunto  the  Pope  went  as  though  he  walked  abroad  for 
air  ;  and  when  he  was  come  thither  he  bade  his  attendants  pass 
on  and  tarry  until  he  came  again  to  them.  They  therefore  did 
as  he  had  bidden,  believing  that  he  went  down  into  this  place  at 
the  call  of  nature.  So  the  scholar  raised  up  before  his  eyes  the 
Archbishop  of  Besmantova,^  with  the  same  pomp  and  vainglory 
with  which  he  was  wont  to  come  to  Court.  First  came  his 
servants  to  make  ready  his  lodging,  then  a  great  multitude  of 
sumpter-mules  with  his  treasures,  then  his  squires  to  wait  on 
him,  and  then  his  knights,  and  himself  last  of  all  with  many 
chaplains  round  him.  The  necromancer  asked  him  whither  he 
went :  and  he  made  answer  *  To  the  Court,  to  my  friend  Pope 
Innocent,  who  would  fain  see  me.'  Then  said  he  '  Here  is  thy 
friend  Innocent,  who  would  know  from  thine  own  mouth  how  it 
standeth  with  thee.'  *  111  indeed,'  said  the  Archbishop,  '  for  I 
am  damned  by  reason  of  my  pomp  and  vainglory  and  my  other 
sins  :  and  I  did  no  penitence  :  wherefore  1  am  doomed  to  dwell 
with  devils  and  with  those  who  go  down  to  hell.'     When  there- 


The  Princes  of  the  Church. 


275 


fore  these  speeches  were  ended  on  either  side,  the  apparition 
vanished  and  the  Pope  went  back  to  his  attendants." 

It  is  evident  that  Salimbene  did  not  feel  unmixed  admiration 
even  for  the  greatest  Pope  of  the  age.  We  have  seen  already 
(chap,  vi)  how  little  he  valued  Innocent's  liturgical  ordinances  : 
and  (as  Prof.  Michael  points  out)  he  dismisses  in  a  few  careless 
lines  that  great  Lateran  Council  which  made  Transubstantiation 
a  dogma  of  the  Church  and  aimed  at  a  sweeping  reform  of  clerical 
learning  and  discipline  (22).  "Among  other  things,  the  Pope 
ordained  that  there  should  be  henceforth  no  [new]  Order  of 
religious  Mendicants  :  but  this  constitution  was  not  kept, 
through  the  negligence  of  the  prelates.  Nay  rather,  whosoever 
will  may  clap  on  a  hood  and  go  begging  and  boast  that  he  has 
founded  a  new  Order.  Hence  comes  confusion  in  the  world  ; 
for  secular  folk  are  burdened  thereby,  and  their  alms  are  not 
enough  for  those  who  labour  in  word  and  in  teaching,  and  whom 
the  Lord  hath  set  to  live  by  the  gospel.  For  rude  secular  folk, 
who  have  no  knowledge  or  discernment,  leave  as  much  by  will 
to  one  wretched  woman  living  in  a  hermitage  as  to  a  convent  of 
thirty  priests,  who  celebrate  mass  almost  daily  for  the  living  and 
for  the  dead.  May  the  Lord  see  to  it,  and  change  for  the  better 
all  that  is  ill  done  I  The  rest  that  was  ordained  at  that  Council  I 
write  not  here,  for  weariness  and  for  the  avoidance  of  prolixity." 
Salimbene's  contempt,  apart  from  his  obvious  zeal  for  his  own 
Order,  is  no  doubt  partly  to  be  explained  by  the  scanty  practical 
result  of  that  Council  :  but  it  is  also  true  that  Innocent  in  his 
own  days  often  commanded  a  far  less  unreserved  admiration 
than  in  ours.  Many  good  Churchmen  were  quite  as  much 
scandalized  by  his  political  struggles  as  edified  by  his  zeal  for 
religion  :  e.g.  St.  Liutgardis  spoke  of  him  as  only  having  just 
avoided  damnation,  and  Caesanus  thought  little  better  of  him. 
The  conception  of  the  Papacy  in  the  13th  century  was  in  many 
ways  still  far  from  its  modern  development.  Nearly  two 
centuries  after  Salimbene,  even  so  orthodox  a  saint  as  James  of 
the  Mark,  in  controversy  with  the  heretics  of  his  time,  could  only 
claim  that  at  least  no  two  consecutive  popes  had  taught  heresy, 
for  there  had  always  been  an  orthodox  successor  to  repudiate 
his  forerunner's  errors.'  It  must  always  be  borne  in  mind  that 
the  "  state  of  siege "  (as  Mr.  Wilfrid  Ward  calls  it)  in  which 
Romanism  has  lived  since  the  Reformation  has  contributed  very 
strongly  to  raise  the  characters  of  the  Popes,  and  to  teach  them 
circumspection  in  their  actions.  Even  in  the  13th  century  (to 
say  nothing  of  the  far  worse  200  years  which  followed)  the  average 
Pope  generally  cuts  a  poor  figure  in  the  pages  of  contemporary 


276  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

chroniclers  :  and  it  is  a  matter  of  common  remark  that  Dante, 
who  damns  so  many,  mentions  even  the  great  Innocent  only  in  a 
couple  of  words,  as  having  ratified  the  Rule  of  St.  Francis. 

Of  Honorius  III  Salimbene  tells  us  that  (33)  "he  deposed  a 
Bishop  who  had  not  read  Donatus :  "  i.e.  who  knew  little  or  no 
Latin. 

Gregory  IX  had  been  the  Cardinal  Ugolino  of  Franciscan 
history :  Salimbene  speaks  of  him  as  a  man  of  strong  feelings 
(88),  but  had  little  sympathy  with  his  aggressive  politics,  which 
had  for  a  moment  well-nigh  wrecked  the  Church  (36 ).  Later  on, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  he  mentions  the  report  that  Cardinal 
Ottaviano  was  this  Pope's  son.  Celestine  IV  and  the  inter- 
regnum of  nearly  two  years  are  barely  mentioned  :  but  Innocent 
IV,  who  ruled  eleven  years  and  had  been  a  friend  of  Salimbene's 
father,  receives  plenty  of  attention,  though  not  always  of  a  flatter- 
ing kind,  in  spite  of  his  favour  to  the  Friars.  (61,  62).  Indeed, 
nearly  all  the  Popes  of  this  period  were  staunch  friends  to  the 
Franciscans,  a  fact  which  adds  all  the  more  weight  to  these  criti- 
cisms, since  Salimbene's  strongest  prejudices  were  those  of  his 
Order.  He  speaks  repeatedly  of  Innocent's  shameless  nepotism 
(62,  1 76),  and  has  no  doubt  that  God  smote  him  for  a  momentary 
weakness  in  siding  with  the  parish  clergy  against  the  Friars. 
Certain  German  Friars,  who  had  vainly  M'aited  long  months  for 
an  audience,  found  their  way  in  at  last  when  all  others  had 
deserted  the  dying  Pope,  and  promised  to  wash  his  body  for 
burial :  "  for  he  remained  on  the  straw,  naked  and  abandoned  of 
all  men,  as  is  the  wont  of  the  Pontiffs  of  Rome  when  they  give 
up  the  ghost "  (420).  The  sang-froid  with  which  Salimbene 
speaks  of  God's  judgment  on  this  Pope  will  surprise  only  those 
who  are  unfamiliar  with  medieval  chronicles.  The  learned  and 
orthodox  Wadding  describes  the  affair  at  much  greater  length. 
He  tells  us  how  the  friars  in  their  trouble  recited  a  daily  Litany 
against  the  Pope's  oppressive  measure ;  and  how  the  Virgin 
Mary  was  seen  standing  on  the  altar  of  their  great  church  at 
Rome  and  saying  "  Son,  hear  them  !  "  Innocent  fell  ill  at 
Naples,  and  died  on  December  7th,  quoting  with  his  last  breath 
"  Thou  with  rebukes  dost  chasten  man  for  sin  :  "  hence  a  proverb- 
ial saying  at  the  Roman  court  "  Beware  of  the  Litanies  of  the 
Friars  Preachers."  Thomas  of  Chantimpre,  himself  a  Domini- 
can and  a  suffragan  Bishop  at  that  time,  asserts  that  the  Pope 
was  struck  with  palsy  on  the  very  day  on  which  he  signed  the 
Bull.  Thomas  of  Eccleston  tells  substantially  the  same  story,  and 
adds  that  "  no  beggar — not  to  say,  no  human  being — dies  a  more 
miserable  and  viler  death  than  all  Popes  die."^ 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  277 

Alexander  IV  (453)  astounded  the  world  by  his  freedom  from 
nepotism  :  he  neither  made  a  Cardinal  of  his  nephew  nor  an  Abbess 
of  his  niece.  Moreover  he  was  a  learned  and  zealous  man  and 
"a  true  and  faithful  friend,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  Brother  Rinaldo 
di  Tocca  of  our  Order,  whom  he  loved  more  dearly  than  Jonathan 
his  David,  or  Amis  his  Amiles.*  For  though  the  whole  world  had 
said  aught  of  evil  against  him,  the  Pope  would  have  believed  no 
whit  thereof,  nor  even  lent  ear  thereto ;  and  he  would  go  bare- 
foot to  open  when  Brother  Rinaldo  knocked  at  his  chamber  door, 
as  was  seen  by  one  who  was  alone  with  the  Pope  in  his  chamber, 
namely.  Brother  Mansueto  da  Castiglione  of  Arezzo,  my  friend, 
from  whose  mouth  I  heard  all  this.  This  Pope  would  not  meddle 
with  wars,  but  passed  his  days  in  peace.  He  was  big,  that  is, 
fat  and  corpulent,  like  another  Eglon :  he  was  kindly,  merciful, 
just.  Godfearing,  and  devout."  "  He  died  of  a  broken  heart, 
considering  daily  the  terrible  and  increasing  strife  among  Christ- 
ians,"says  Wadding  (an.  1261.) 

Of  his  successor  Urban  IV,  Salimbene  had  a  poor  opinion  : 
and  he  attributes  his  death  to  the  influence  of  the  great  comet  of 
1264.  But  the  next  Pope  was  again  a  man  after  his  own  heart. 
This  was  Clement  IV,  who  had  had  a  wife  and  children  "  in  the 
World,"  and  who  as  Pope  "was  so  devoted  to  vigils,  fastings, 
and  prayers  that  God  is  thought  to  have  remedied  for  his  merits 
many  disorders  under  which  the  Church  then  suffered."  (476) 
After  him  came  a  disastrous  interregnum  -of  nearly  four  years, 
which  men  vainly  attempted  to  prevent  in  future  by  passing 
ordinances  to  which  nobody  paid  any  attention.  Then  came 
Gregory  X,  the  last  of  the  good  Popes  in  this  chronicle.  One 
case  of  nepotism  is  indeed  reported  of  him  ;  he  gave  the  Arch- 
bishopric of  Ravenna,  in  favour  of  his  kindred,  to  the  Bonifacio 
Fiescni  of  Purg.  xxiv,  29 ;  "  che  pasturo  col  rocco  molte  gcnti " 
(83).  All  else  that  he  tells  us  is  very  much  to  this  Pope's  credit. 
^488,  491)  He  hated  simony:  a  rare  virtue  in  that  century: 
"  he  was  a  good  man,  just,  and  upright  and  God-fearing,  and 
very  zealous  for  religion  ;  and  he  purposed  to  do  many  things 
which  were  broken  off  by  his  death.  In  1274  he  celebrated  a 
General  Council  at  Lyons,  wherein  he  appeared  truly  holy,  for 
there  he  ordained  many  good  constitutions."  Moreover,  he 
thought  to  cleave  fast  to  Christ's  commands,  if  he  had  lived  : 
but  he  was  carried  off  by  death,  even  as  Josiah,  King  of  Judah, 
at  that  moment  when  he  was  most  needed,  for  the  sake  of  our 
wickedness  who  still  survive  him."  But  Salimbene  finds  two 
other  characteristic  reasons  for  the  Pope's  death — he  had 
attempted  to  continue  the  imperial  line  after  Frederick's  decease, 


278  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  had  set  his  heart  upon  recovering  the  Holy  Land  :  iu  each 
case,  in  flat  neglect  of  Joachim's  prophecies. 

Nicholas  III  earned  Salimbene's  gratitude  by  making  two 
Franciscan  Cardinals  :  but  the  costly  and  scandalous  wars  of 
Martin  IV  had  their  real  origin  in  Nicholas's  acquisition  of 
Komagna  from  the  Emperor  Kudolf  :  "  for  the  Popes  oft-times 
seek  to  extort  gifts  from  the  Empire  by  reason  of  a  fresh  acces- 
sion, since  the  Emperor  cannot  fittingly  refuse  a  demand  at  that 
moment"  (509).  Again,  Nicholas  was  sadly  given  to  nepotism, 
"  for  he  '  built  up  Sion  with  blood,'  as  also  certain  other  Koman 
Pontiffs  have  sometimes  done.*  I  believe  most  surely  in  my 
conscience  that  there  are  a  thousand  Friars  of  the  Order  of  the 
blessed  Francis  (whereof  I  am  a  poor  and  most  humble  Brother) 
who  would  be  better  fitted  by  their  learning  and  holy  life  to 
receive  the  Cardinal's  hat  than  many  who  are  promoted  by  reason 
of  their  kindred  by  the  Koman  Pontiffs.  We  need  not  seek  far 
for  an  example.  Pope  Urban  IV  promoted  to  the  Cardinalate 
his  nephew  Anger,  and  6xalted  him  in  riches  and  honour  above 
all  the  Cardinals  of  the  Court :  yet  he  was  at  first  so  miserable  a 
scholar  that  he  was  wont  to  fetch  back  flesh  from  the  market  for 
his  fellow  scholars ;  and  in  process  of  time  it  was  found  that  he 
was  the  Pope's  son — and  so  they  promote  and  exalt  their  bastards, 
and  say  that  they  are  their  nephews,  sons  of  their  brethren.^  Not 
so  did  the  blessed  Job,  who  saith  of  himself  '  If  as  a  man  I  have 
hid  my  sin,  and  have  concealed  my  iniquity  in  my  bosom,'  etc. 
And  certainly  such  men  as  these  are  thought  most  honourable 
when  they  are  promoted  to  power  and  dignities,  and  have  wealth 
and  free  access  to  the  Pope ;  but  hearken  now  to  a  text  which 
may  comfort  thee  against  any  man  who  hath  a  fat  prebend.  '  If 
his  sons  be  multiplied,  they  shall  be  for  the  sword,  and  his  grand- 
sons {nepotcs)  shall  not  be  filled  with  bread.'  Therefore  .  .  .  ." 
here  follow  six-and-a-half  lines  which  have  been  scratched  out, 
the  only  legible  words  being  at  the  end  "  is  loved,  for  that  she  is 
foul  and  deformed ;  moreover,  she  is  hunchbacked  and  of 
illegitimate  birth."  (170) 

Of  Martin  IV  he  speaks  frequently,  showing  little  sympathy 
with  his  waste  of  blood  and  treasure  in  the  Italian  wars,  and  with 
his  embezzlement  of  Crusade  money  :  he  is  rather  amused  than 
otherwise  that  the  Perugians  should  have  burnt  him  and  his 
Cardinals  in  eflBgy.  (510)  At  the  same  time,  he  shows  his 
leniency  in  omitting  all  mention  of  that  gluttony  and  wine- 
bibbing  which  earned  Martin  a  conspicuous  place  in  Dante's 
Purgatory.  Martin's  successor,  Honorius  IV,  passed  among  the 
Friars  for  an  enemy  of  their  Order ;  and  Salimbene  probably 


The  Princes  of  the  Church. 


279 


wrote  more  about  him  than  we  shalJ  ever  know.  For,  under  the 
year  1286,  two  passages  of  five  sheets  each  have  been  torn  from  the 
MS.,  no  doubt  as  containing  more  unedif  jing  details  than  usual. 
The  first  evidently  contained  criticism  of  the  Koman  Court,  since 
among  the  first  words  on  the  next  page  we  read  (618)  "  For 
the  Cardinals  are  wont  to  care  little  for  such  things.  More- 
over, the  Cardinals  at  that  time  had  just  such  a  Pope,  a  Roman 
named  Jacopo  Savelli,  grasping  and  avaricious  and  01  little  worth 
and  crippled  with  the  gout.'  He  was  called  Pope  Honorius  IV  : 
and  not  only  was  he  no  founder  of  new  Orders  of  Religion,  but, 
so  far  as  in  him  lay,  he  was  a  great  destroyer  of  those  already 
founded  and  growing — being  moved  thereto  by  bribes  from 
certain  prelates  of  churches  ;  for  all  things  are  obedient  unto 
gold."  His  death  (thinks  Salimbene)  might  partly  be  explained 
by  his  renewing  Gregory  X's  attempt  to  continue  the  Roman 
Empire  after  Frederick's  death,  in  the  teeth  of  Joachim's 
prophecies  :  but  the  main  cause  was  this  aforesaid  acceptance  of 
£100,000  Tournois  to  curtail  the  privileges  of  the  Friars. 
"  And  the  Lord  Matteo  Rossi  who  was  the  cardinal,  protector, 
governor,  and  corrector  of  the  Franciscan  Order,  came  weeping 
to  the  Brethren,  and  said  to  them  with  tears  :  '  My  brethren,  I 
have  laboured  all  that  in  me  lay  to  turn  the  Supreme  Pontiff 
aside  from  his  purpose ;  yet  could  I  not  recall  him  from  his  evil 
disposition  (malignitate)  which  he  beareth  in  his  heart  towards 
you.  Pray  ye  therefore  to  God  who  "  bringeth  to  nought  the 
designs  of  the  malignant,"  that  he  may  "  deliver  you  from  im- 
portunate and  evil  men."  Pray  ye  also  to  the  blessed  Francis 
that  he  may  deign  to  work  his  accustomed  marvels  against  those 
who  strive  to  trouble  his  Order,  that  all  men  living  may  know, 
and  all  who  do  evil,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  fight  against  (jod  and 
his  servants.'  Hearing  this,  the  Brethren  turned  with  one  mind 
to  beseech  the  Lord  that  He  might  deign  to  succour  them  in  this 
peril ;  and,  for  that  '  the  prayers  of  so  many  must  needs  be 
heard'  (as  saith  St.  Augustine)  therefore  He  who  'hath  had 
regard  to  the  prayer  of  the  humble  ;  and  hath  not  despised  their 
petition '  that  is,  God — whereas  Pope  Honorius  was  about  to 
promulgate  the  aforesaid  decree  on  the  morrow  of  Maundy 
Thursday — God  (I  say)  smote  him  on  the  fourth  day  of  Holy 
Week  at  even,  and  he  died."  (619,  629). 

After  all,  Papal  embezzlement,  Papal  immorality,  Popes  prayed 
to  death  by  the  faithful,  are  common  phenomena  enough  in  the 
13th  and  14th  centuries.  Matthew  Paris  speaks  far  more  bitter- 
ly than  Salimbene  about  the  theft  of  Crusade  money,  though  he 
never  lived  to  see  its  grosser  forms  under  Martin  iV  :  and  this 


28o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

was  no  doubt  one  of  the  main  causes  for  that  decay  of  crusading 
enthusiasm  of  which  Etienne  de  Bourbon  so  bitterlj  complains 
(p.  174).  If  there  is  any  medieval  chronicler  who  wrote  consist- 
ently of  the  Popes  in  terms  that  would  satisfy  a  modern  Koman 
Catholic,  it  may  pretty  safely  be  asserted  that  the  majority  did 
not.  Salimbene's  popes,  it  must  be  remembered,  were  after  all 
far  better  than  those  of  an  earlier  or  a  later  age.  His  complaint 
as  to  the  distribution  of  Church  preferment,  petulant  as  it  sounds, 
is  outdone  by  St.  Dominic's  successor,  the  blessed  Jordan  of 
Saxony.  Here  is  the  latter's  reply  to  certain  Bishops  who  com- 
plained that  Friars,  when  raised  to  the  episcopal  rank,  were  less 
satisfactory  than  before.  "  Though  I  have  passed  many  years 
in  the  [Dominican]  Order,  I  do  not  recall  a  single  instance  in 
which  his  Holiness  the  Pope,  or  any  Legate,  or  Cathedral 
Chapter,  has  ever  asked  me  or  any  of  our  Superiors,  or  any 
General  or  Provincial  Chapter,  to  find  them  a  good  bishop.  On 
the  contrary,  they  picked  their  own  men  at  will,  either  for  reason 
of  nepotism,  or  from  some  other  unspiritual  motive,  and  so  no 
blame  can  rest  with  us." 

"  Like  Pope,  like  Cardinal,"  as  all  contemporaries  assure  us. 
The  terrible  accusations  which  Grosseteste  brought  against  the 
Papal  Court  at  the  First  Council  of  Lyons  (1245)  are  if  possible 
outdone  by  Hugh  de  Digne's  diatribe  against  the  Cardinals  on 
that  same  occasion,  as  recorded  by  Salimbene.  "  I  heard  it "  (lie 
says)  "  from  the  mouth  of  Brother  Hugh,  and  wrote  it  down  even 
as  I  heard  it,  fully  and  faithfully."  Fully  indeed,  for  it  would  fill 
nearly  twenty  pages  of  this  book,  and  I  can  give  only  the  briefest 
summary  here  (226ff').  Innocent  IV  had  asked  Hugh  to  attend 
and  give  an  informal  account  of  his  Joachistic  beliefs  before  the 
Cardinals  in  Consistory.  They  began  by  asking  what  news  he 
brought — naturally  enough,  as  the  modern  reader  would  think, 
seeing  that  the  ordinary  friar  was  a  sort  of  professional  go-be- 
tween and  newsbearer.  But  Hugh  was  of  St.  Bonaventura's 
opinion  in  the  matter,  and  loathed  the  ready  sociability  of  his 
ordinary  brethren  :  in  a  moment  his  Proven9al  blood  was  up,  and 
he  felt  himself  "  full  of  the  fury  of  the  Lord."  Taking  their 
worldly  curiosity  as  the  text  of  his  sermon,  he  proceeded  to  "  rate 
them  like  asses."  First  he  compared  them  to  St.  Paul's  Athen- 
ians, idly  agape  all  day  long  for  some  new  thing.  Then  he  passed 
on  to  rebuke  their  notorious  simony  and  nepotism,  and  the  bribery 
that  was  rampant  at  the  Roman  Court.  Both  Pope  and  cardinals 
(he  says)  neglect  to  do  as  Jethro  advised  Moses  ;  i.e.  choose  fit 
men  to  govern  in  pastoral  offices.  At  Rome,  there  is  no  relic 
half  so  efficacious  as  the  bones  of  St.  Gold  and  St.  Silver  :  with 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  281 

money,  a  man  may  buy  a  judgment  at  his  will.  He  quotes  the 
University  epigram  : 

"  On  an  accusative  errand  no  suitor  to  Eome  need  wend, 
Unless  lie  bring  with  him  the  dative,  to  make  that  Mammon  his  friend." 

By  this  time  his  blood  is  well  up,  and  he  proceeds  to  hurl  text 
after  text  at  the  princes  of  the  Church.  The  bitterest  invectives 
of  Isaiah  and  Amos  against  rich  men's  luxury  and  wantonness, 
and  of  Christ  against  the  Pharisees,  had  but  prefigured  the 
Cardinals — or,  as  pseudo-Joachim  nicknamed  them,  the  Grab- 
binals  (Carpinales).  Their  very  title  and  dignity  is  a  mushroom 
growth  :  in  Constantine's  time  no  Cardinals  were  known  :  it  was 
but  yesterday  in  1245  that  Innocent  IV  gave  them  their  red  hats 
to  distinguish  them  from  the  rest  of  the  clergy'  ..."  And  ye 
travel  not,  except  it  be  in  pomp  from  your  own  lodging  to  the 
Pope's  Consistory,  and  thence  to  your  own  table,  where  ye  eat  and 
drink  sumptuously.  Then  ye  journey  to  your  bed  and  sleep  soft- 
ly ;  after  which  ye  are  all  day  idle  in  your  chambers,  stagnating 
in  sloth,  and  sporting  with  hounds  and  hawks,  or  with  your  nephews 
and  your  fat  palfreys.  Such  is  the  business  of  your  lives,  nor  do 
ye  care  what  stranger  lies  in  the  street,  who  lacks  bread,  who 
needs  clothing,  who  is  to  be  visited  or  redeemed  from  captivity 
or  buried.  Surely  ye  might  convert  the  whole  world  if  ye  followed 
what  the  Wise  Man  teacheth,  '  Run  about,  make  haste,  stir  up 
thy  friend  : '  thus  would  men  believe  in  you  more  than  in  their 
priests.  Of  the  Lord  it  is  said  that  He  went  about  all  Galilee, 
teaching  in  their  synagogues.  But  the  chief  Pontiff,  who  is 
called  Pope,  and  Bishop,  and  Servant  of  the  Servants  of  God, 
remains  shut  in  day  and  night,  that  they  may  gain  money  who 
keep  him  in  prison.  ...  St.  Paul  said  '  There  shall  be  a  time 
when  they  will  not  endure  sound  doctrine  :  but  according  to 
their  own  desires  they  will  heap  to  themselves  teachers,  having 
itching  ears,  and  will  indeed  turn  away  their  hearing  from  the 
truth,  but  will  be  turned  unto  fables.'  Of  whom  in  truth  ye  are, 
who  inquire  after  fables  and  news.  Tell  me  who  of  your  whole 
College — 1  mean  of  you  Cardinals — has  yet  been  written  on  the 
roll  of  the  Saints  ?  Certainly  Pope  Damasus  was  accused  by 
you  of  adultery,  St.  Jerome  was  foully  and  shamefully  driven 
away,  but  he  did  wisely  in  departing  from  you,'  and  was  of  more 

Erotit  to  the  Church  of  God  by  withdrawing  from  you  than  if 
e  had  remained  with  you  and  had  become  Pope  ;  for  if  he  had 
been  Pope,  perchance  he  might  have  made  four  Deacons  and  five 
Presbyters  and  fifteen  Bishops  in  divers  places,  and  would  have 


282  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

ordained  patens  of  glass  to  be  kept.^"  But  after  his  departure 
from  your  midst  he  edited  many  books,  and  expounded  many, 
and  translated  the  Bible.  ...  I  have  spoken  :  it  is  enough." 

The  Cardinals  were  cut  to  the  heart  and  gnashed  their  teeth 
at  the  bold  friar  :  "  It  seemed  long  to  them  till  he  should  depart 
from  them  and  go  forth  from  the  chamber,  nor  did  they  imitate 
the  Athenians  in  saying  'We  will  hear  thee  again  concerning 
this  matter.'  "  But  the  Pope,  to  his  honour  be  it  said,  praised 
Hugh  for  his  fearless  speech :  it  will  be  remembered  that  In- 
nocent, with  all  his  faults,  had  also  a  real  regard  for  the  incon- 
veniently earnest  John  of  Parma.  Moreover,  Hugh  had  from 
the  first  stipulated  that  he  should  have  fair  play,  and  be  allowed 
to  finish  his  speech  without  interruption.  Salimbene,  ever  glad 
to  show  his  very  great  scripture  knowledge,  remarked  that,  if  the 
Cardinals  had  been  less  taken  aback  and  more  ready  with  their 
Bibles,  they  might  have  answered  Hugh  with  one  or  two  con- 
temptuous texts  such  as  Pro  v.  xvii.  28,  or  xxvi.  10  :  or  xix  25. 
In  this  latter  case  they  might  have  suited  the  action  to  the  word 
and  caused  him  to  be  scourged.  To  which  Hugh  answered  that 
he  would  have  taken  the  stripes  cheerfully,  with  the  tranquil 
conviction  that  he  had  had  his  money's  worth  of  plain  speech 
beforehand  :  for  he  had  thoroughly  fulfilled  his  initial  promise, 
"  I  will  touch  the  mountains,  and  they  shall  smoke." 

On  this  point,  as  on  nearly  all  the  others  on  which  I  touch  in 
these  chapters,  the  significance  of  the  evidence  lies  less  even  in 
its  intensity  than  in  its  universality.  That  one  or  two  men — 
even  specially  distinguished  men — should  have  "rated  the 
Cardinals  like  asses  "  is  not  so  surprising  :  but  the  absence  of 
rebutting  evidence  is  most  remarkable.  Similar  accusations  of 
corruption  made  by  orthodox  writers  against  the  Court  of  Rome 
during  the  last  four  centuries  before  the  Reformation  would  fill 
a  volume.     Matthew  Paris  quotes  the  epigram  : 

"  The  whole  world  for  Home's  greed  can  not  sufSce 
Nor  the  world's  harlots  for  its  lecheries." 

Wherever  the  Pope  has  made  his  abode — until  quite  recent  times 
— the  morality  of  that  city  has  alway  enjoyed  an  evil  reputation. 
Hugh  of  St.-Cher,  one  of  the  few  really  learned  and  virtuous 
Cardinals  under  Innocent  IV,  made  a  memorable  farewell  speech 
to  the  citizens  when  the  Papal  Court  was  on  the  point  of  leaving 
Lyons  :  "  We  found  three  or  four  houses  of  ill-fame  when  we 
came  hither  [seven  years  ago],  and  now  at  our  departure  we 
leave  the  whole  city  one  continuous  brothel."     Petrarch  has  still 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  283 

harder  words  for  Avignon  during  the  years  of  the  Pope's  abode 
there :  and  its  common  nickname  of  "  the  sinful  city  "  finds  its 
way  even  into  English  parliamentary  documents  of  the  time. 
Exactly  the  same  complaint  was  made  against  the  city  of  Con- 
stance during  the  sitting  of  the  Great  Council  in  the  next  cen- 
tury. The  iniquities  of  the  city  of  Rome  itself  have  always 
been  proverbial :  both  Boccaccio  and  Benvenuto  da  Imola  refer 
to  them  as  notorious,  and  they  are  silently  admitted  even  by 
Father  Ryder  in  his  reply  to  Littledale's  Plain  Reasons}^ 

Moreover,  the  Bishops  as  a  class  were  if  anything  worse  than 
the  Cardinals.  We  have  seen  what  Jordan  of  Saxony  says 
about  them  :  and  Salimbene  among  others,  makes  the  very  same 
complaint :  "  Note  that  in  my  days  many  Friars  Minor  and 
Preachers  have  been  raised  to  bishoprics,  rather  by  favour  of 
their  family  and  their  fleshly  kindred,  than  by  favour  of  their 
Order.  For  the  canons  of  the  cathedral  church  of  any  city  care 
little  to  have  men  of  religious  orders  set  above  them  as  prelates, 
however  clearly  they  may  see  them  to  shine  in  life  and  doctrine. 
For  they  fear  to  be  rebuked  of  them,  while  they  would  fain  live 
in  fleshly  lusts  and  wantonness."  At  that  Council  of  Lyons  at 
which  St.  Bonaventura  was  the  prominent  figure,  the  good 
Gregory  X  had  roundly  asserted  that  "the  prelates  were  the 
cause  of  the  ruin  of  the  whole  world."  This  pope  did  what  he 
could  for  reform  during  those  brief  years  which  were  yet  granted 
him  "  in  a  world  too  evil  to  retain  him."  By  exerting  the  whole 
weight  of  his  authority,  he  succeeded  in  enforcing  the  resignation 
of  the  great  prince-bishop  Henry  of  Liege,  who  for  nearly  thirty 
years  had  led  a  life  almost  incredible,  but  for  the  plain  evidence 
of  similar  episcopal  scandals  even  under  Innocent  III.  Two 
abbesses  and  a  nun  were  among  his  concubines ;  and  he  boasted 
of  having  had  fourteen  children  in  twenty-two  months.  Though 
illiterate,  and  not  made  a  priest  till  eleven  years  after,  he 
had  been  elected  for  political  reasons  by  the  special  exertions 
of  Innocent  IV,  the  Pope  whose  influence  on  the  Church  was 
perhaps  strongest  of  all  during  Salimbene's  lifetime.  It  has 
been  pleaded  that  we  must  be  lenient  to  the  episcopal  scandals  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  regarding  the  Church  rather  as  an  unwilling 
victim  to  rude  and  oppressive  secular  lords,  who  too  often  forced 
unworthy  prelates  upon  her :  but  the  plea  will  not  bear  a 
moment's  serious  examination."  The  Papal  Court  had  plenty 
of  power  to  minimize  or  even  stamp  out  such  an  abuse,  if  it  had 
cared  to  throw  into  such  a  struggle  those  energies  which  it  wasted 
in  petty  Italian  civil  wars,  in  the  persecution  of  heretics,  and  in 
the  collection  of   vast  sums  to  be  squandered  on  selfish   and 


284  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

scandalous  indulgences.  What  is  more,  contemporaries  assure 
us  that  the  Popes  themselves  were  directly  responsible  for  the 
unworthiness  of  the  prelates.  Salimbene,  (as  we  have  seen  in 
Chapter  VIII)  quotes  the  saintly  Cistercian  Geoffroi  de  Peronne, 
whose  spirit  came  back  from  the  other  world  to  announce  that 
he  would  have  been  damned  without  hope  if  he  had  let  himself  be 
persuaded  by  St.  Bernard  and  the  Pope  to  accept  the  Bishopric 
of  Tournai.  Franciscan  records  tell  us  how  a  13th-century 
scholar  of  Paris,  being  led  down  to  hell  in  a  vision,  asked  news  of 
his  lately  deceased  uncle  the  Bishop.  "  The  demon  replied,  *  1 
know  him  not :  so  many  Bishops  come  hither  daily  that  I  know 
not  of  whom  thou  speakest.' "  We  have  small  reason  to  look 
back  fondly  to  an  age  when  a  Bishopric  could  be  spoken  of,  even 
hyperbolically,  as  one  of  the  high  roads  to  damnation  ;  and  when 
this  aversion  to  the  office  was  strongest  among  many  of  the  very 
best  men.  Salimbene  has  told  us  already  of  poor  Kinaldo  and 
the  ex-Bishop  of  Turin  :  and  similar  evidence  meets  us  every- 
where. Gregory  X  complained  of  the  number  of  Bishops  who 
besieged  him  for  leave  to  resign  their  sees.  Albert  the  Great,  a 
man  perhaps  superior  on  the  whole  to  his  pupil  Aquinas,  accepted 
the  Bishopric  of  Ratisbon  for  the  sake  of  carrying  out  definite  and 
sorely-needed  refonns :  the  General  of  his  Order  treated  this 
acceptance  as  a  terrible  fall.  "  Who  would  believe  that  you,  in 
the  very  evening  of  life,  would  set  such  a  blot  on  your  own  glory 
and  on  that  of  the  Order  which  you  have  done  so  much  to  augment? 
Consider  what  has  befallen  such  as  have  suiFered  themselves  to 
be  drawn  into  such  offices  :  what  their  reputation  now  is,  what 
fruits  they  have  brought  forth,  how  they  have  ended  their  lives  I  " 
Later  on,  Albert  resigned  his  see,  and  died  as  a  simple  monk  at 
Cologne.  Aquinas  refused  the  see  of  Naples,  Bonaventura  that 
of  York.  Such  refusals  are  specially  plentiful  in  Franciscan 
chronicles  :  but  they  stare  out  from  every  page  of  the  history  of 
the  times,  down  to  the  Gran  Rifiuto  of  Celestine  V,  who,  before 
taking  the  decisive  step,  used  to  weep  alone  in  his  cell ;  "  they 
say  1  have  all  power  in  this  world  over  souls,  and  why  cannot  I 
ensure  my  own  salvation  ?  "  It  is  generally  known  that  John 
of  Salisbury  debated  more  or  less  seriously  the  question  "  Can 
an  Archdeacon  ever  be  saved  ?  "  but  few  know  the  earnest  and 
far  more  significant  discussion  in  Caesarius  of  Heisterbach.  He 
begins  :  "  A  certain  clerk  at  Paris  pronounced  a  terrible  judgment 
on  Bishops  a  few  years  ago,  saying,  '  I  can  believe  anything,  but 
I  cannot  believe  that  any  German  Bishop  can  ever  be  saved  : ' " 
and  he  goes  on  to  quote  Salimbene's  Geoffi-oi  de  Peronne  as 
saying,  "  The  state  of  the  Church  is  now  come  to  such  a  pass 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  285 

that  it  is  not  worthy  to  be  ruled  but  by  Bishops  doomed  to 
damnation."^' 

Lurid  as  this  picture  is,  it  is  quite  in  accord  with  other  details  we 
find  in  Salimbene,  though  he  leaves  the  world-renowned  sinners 
alone,  and  speaks  merely  of  those  who  have  come  within  his  own 
ken.  We  have  seen  already  how  low  one  Bishop  of  his  acquain- 
tance estimated  Episcopal  chances  of  salvation  (435,  quoted  in 
chap.  xxi).  He  tells  us  of  eight  Bishops  of  Parma  during  his 
lifetime.  The  fii-st,  uncle  to  Innocent  IV,  was  "honest  of  his 
person,  as  men  report " — i.e.,  chaste  :  a  praise  which  of  itself  is 
significant.  (69)  His  successor  Grazia  "  was  held  by  the  Parmese 
to  be  a  good  Bishop  :  in  truth  he  was  no  dissipator  of  the  Episcopal 
revenues.  After  him  came  a  certain  Gregory,  a  Roman,  who 
lived  but  a  short  time,  and  died  at  Mantua,  a  heretic  and  accursed. 
For  when  in  his  last  illness  they  brought  him  the  Body  of  the 
Lord,  he  would  not  take  it,  saying  that  he  believed  nothing  of 
such  a  faith.  When  therefore  he  had  been  asked  why  he  accepted 
the  bishopric,  he  said,  '  Because  of  its  riches  and  honours  ; '  and 
so  he  died,  without  the  Holy  Communion.  After  him  Master 
Martin  da  Coluraio  was  Bishop,  a  man  of  no  very  distinguished 
birth ;  after  whom  came  Bernardo  Vizi.  From  this  Bernard,  ( who 
had  founded  the  Order  of  Brethren  of  Martorano,,)  although  he 
had  received  the  Bishopric  from  the  Legate  Gregorio  da  Monte- 
lungo.  Pope  Innocent  IV  nevertheless  took  it  away  and  gave  it 
to  his  brother  Albert :  for  he  dearly  loved  his  kinsfolk."  (69, 
176,  1285 — 365)  Albert,  though  useless  as  a  Bishop,  was  however 
again  "  honest  of  his  person."  He  never  took  priest's  orders  or 
obtained  consecration,  though  he  held  the  see  for  fourteen  years. 
His  death  was  the  signal  for  an  exact  repetition  of  the  previous 
jobbery  :  Master  John  was  canonically  and  rightly  elected,  but 
"  then  came  the  Lord  Obizzo  Bishop  of  Tripoli,  who  was  likewise 
a  nephew  of  the  aforesaid  Pope,  and  took  it  from  him."  (69) 
Obizzo  began  less  decently  than  his  brother,  but  apparently  lived 
to  become  quite  a  respectable  specimen  of  an  Italian  Bishop. 
"  He  was  rather  like  a  knight,  and  may  be  described  as  we  have 
above  described  the  Lord  Nicholas,  Bishop  of  Rcggio ;  for  he 
was  a  clerk  with  the  clergy,  a  monk  with  monks,  a  layman  with 
laymen,  a  knight  with  knights,  a  baron  with  barons  :  a  great 
embezzler  {baratator)^  a  great  waster,  freehanded,  liberal,  and 
courtly.  At  first  he  wasted  many  lands  and  possessions  of  the 
Bishopric,  and  gave  them  to  buffoons  ;  but  as  time  went  on,  he 
recovered  the  lands  which  he  had  given  away,  and  did  much 
good  in  his  Bishopric.  He  was  a  man  of  learning,  especially  in 
Canon  Law,  and  most  skilled  in  the  office  of  a  Churchman,  and 


286  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

he  knew  the  game  of  chess,  and  kept  the  secular  clergy  strictlj 
under  his  rod,  and  he  would  give  parishes  and  churches  to  those 
■who  did  well  by  him."  (62).  About  ten  years  after  Salimbene's 
death,  Obizzo  was  driven  from  Parma  by  a  popular  rising,  and 
fled  to  Eavenna,  where  he  succeeded  Dante's  Bonifazio  as  Arch- 
bishop.^^ 

This  is  not  a  brilliant  record  for  sixty  years  of  Bishops,  in  a  see 
which  was  as  safe  from  undue  secular  influence  as  any  in  Europe. 
In  truth.  Papal  appointments  were  generally  quite  as  political  as 
any  others  :  and  these  illegal  interferences  with  the  freedom  of 
election  constantly  resulted  in  bloody  quarrels  or  at  least  in  long 
vacancies,  during  which  the  people  got  on  as  best  they  could 
without  a  Bishop.  So  it  was  at  Milan  after  the  death  of  the 
pugnacious  Leo  :  so  at  Modena  (141) :  and  Keggio,  still  nearer 
to  Parma,  was  thus  vacant  for  ten  years,  while  two  noble  candi- 
dates of  rival  houses  fought  out  their  diff*erence8.  (175)  The 
Papal  candidate  entered  at  last  into  his  see  :  but  Salimbene's 
epitaph  shows  that  he  was  of  the  type  of  Innocent's  other 
creations.  (518).  "In  this  year  died  the  Lord  Guglielmo  Fog- 
liani.  Bishop  of  Reggio,  and  he  ordered  ill  for  the  health  of  his 
soul.  For  he  was  avaricious,  illiterate,  and  almost  as  a  layman. 
He  was  also  as  Zacharias  saith  '  a  shepherd,  and  idol,  that  for- 
saketh  the  flock.'  He  loved  to  live  splendidly  or  eat  sumptuously 
every  day  for  the  pampering  of  his  body.  Oft-times  he  made 
great  feasts  to  the  rich  and  to  his  relatives,  but  from  the  poor  he 
shut  up  the  bowels  of  compassion.  He  dowered  no  girls ;  he 
was  a  boorish  man,  that  is,  dull  and  rude  :  he  had  few  who  spoke 
well  of  him.  It  had  been  better  for  him  had  he  been  a  swine- 
herd or  a  leper  than  a  Bishop.  He  left  nothing  to  the  Religious, 
nor  to  the  Friars  Minor  or  Preachers,  nor  to  other  poor :  the 
poor  Religious  who  were  present  that  day  at  his  funeral  had 
naught  to  eat  of  his  goods,  or  rather,  of  the  goods  of  the  Bishop- 
ric. I  was  present  at  his  funeral  and  interment,  and  I  know 
that  a  dog  defiled  his  grave  when  he  was  laid  therein."  He  was 
buried  below  in  the  cathedral  church,  where  the  men  of  the 
people  are  laid  (yet  he  was  rather  worthy  to  be  buried  on  a  dung- 
heap;)  and  he  troubled  many  that  were  at  peace.  He  held  the 
Bishopric  of  Reggio  for  forty  years  save  one  month." 

The  avarice  or  wastefulness  of  the  Bishops  is  a  common  med- 
ieval theme  :  many  were  the  prelates  of  whom  it  might  be  said, 
as  Innocent  III  said  of  the  Archbishop  of  Narbonne,  that  he 
had  a  purse  where  his  heart  should  have  been.  Cardinal 
Jacques  de  Vitry,  with  all  his  sense  of  responsibility,  does  not 
hesitate  to  tell  us  of  a  priest  who  suffered  so  terribly  from  an 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  287 

episcopal  visit  and  from  the  insatiable  demands  of  his  Lordship's 
cook,  that,  in  despair,  he  sawed  several  slices  from  the  body  of 
the  great  crucifix,  and  brought  them  roasted  to  the  Bishop. 
"  My  larder  is  empty  :  1  have  nothing  left  for  your  table  but 
these  ribs  of  the  Crucified."^^  Salimbene  bears  out  this  picture  : 
in  three  other  places  he  describes  covetous  Bishops  of  his  day. 
Of  one  (Genoa)  he  adds  that "  men  even  whisper  a  sinister  report 
of  him,  to  wit  that  he  was  not  altogether  a  good  Catholic," 
(317)  but  it  is  only  fair  to  note  that  the  author  of  the  Golden 
Leffe7id  gives  this  bishop  a  good  character  :  (Chron.  Januense, 
col.  47),  and  Salimbene  seems  certainly  mistaken  in  quoting  a 
report  that  he  was  finally  murdered.  He  goes  on  with  another 
anecdote  on  which  Prof.  Holder-Egger  throws  doubt  also  :  "  The 
Bishop  of  Ferrara  was  no  less  miserly  and  covetous  than  he ; 
for  when  the  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem  had  come  from  the  Holy 
Land  to  Ferrara  on  a  journey  of  business  to  the  Roman  Court, 
and  besought  the  Bishop  to  lodge  him  for  one  night  in  his  palace, 
he  denied  his  brother  that  hospitality.  So  the  Patriarch  went  to 
the  Court  of  Rome ;  and  there  after  a  short  space  he  was  made 
Pope  by  the  title  of  Urban  IV.  So  he  wrote  letters  to  the 
Bishop  of  Ferrara  saying,  '  Know  now  that  I  am  Pope,  and  that 
1  may  render  thee  thy  deserts  for  thy  avarice  and  thy  covetous- 
ness  ;  since  the  Apostle  saith  "  a  Bishop  must  be  given  to  hos- 
pitality." '  Yet  we  read  not  that  the  Pope  wrought  the  Bishop 
any  evil  :  though,  indeed,  the  latter  feared  it  all  the  days  of  his 
life,  which  itself  was  a  great  vengeance.  The  aforesaid  Bishop 
was  a  Brescian  by  birth,  and  a  physician  by  his  calling  :  then  he 
was  made  Bishop  of  Piacenza  ;  and,  going  to  the  Court,  he  pro- 
cured the  Bishopric  of  Ferrara.  At  Piacenza  he  was  wont  to 
keep  two  Friars  Minor  in  his  palace  ;  but  they  had  a  miserable 
life  in  the  matter  of  victuals,  by  reason  of  his  avarice."  Our 
chronicler  describes  the  bestial  debauchery  of  another  (Faenza) 
in  words  which  the  Parmese  editor  felt  bound  to  omit  even  from 
his  Latin  text.  This  satyr  was  succeeded  by  a  mere  party  poli- 
tician, who  received  a  politician's  reward,  and  was  driven  out  by 
the  other  faction.  "  So  this  Bishop  went  to  Bagnacavallo,  where 
he  tarried  all  night  shut  up  in  the  campanile  of  the  parish 
church,  quaking  with  terror,  since  he  feared  for  his  own  skin. 
He  lived  but  a  few  days  after  this,  and  another  Bishop  was  made 
in  his  room."  (426).  Indeed,  good  Bishops  are  rare  in  our 
chronicle  :  and  the  general  level  may  be  judged  by  Salimbene's 
enthusiasm  over  the  Patriarch  of  Antioch,  (179)  "  who  was  of 
the  family  of  Roberti  at  Reggio.  At  the  time  of  the  great 
earthquake  he  was  Bishop  of   Brescia  ;   and   having  left  his 


288  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

chamber  at  the  cry  of  a  certain  Friar  Minor  who  dwelt  with  him 
whilst  he  was  Bishop,  immediately  after  he  had  quitted  it  the 
chamber  fell  in  at  the  shock  of  the  earthquake ;  and  he  so 
recognised  this  benefit  from  God,  that  he  was  wholly  converted 
to  Him.  For  immediately  without  delay  he  made  a  vow,  and 
promised  firmly  to  God  that  for  all  the  days  of  his  life  he  would 
Keep  his  chastity,  which  lie  was  not  formerly  wont  to  keep  ;  and 
that  all  the  days  of  his  life  he  would  eat  no  flesh,  which  vow  he 
inviolably  kept.  Yet  he  gave  abundantly  to  all  of  his  household, 
according  to  the  word  of  St.  Chrysostom  which  saith,  '  Wilt 
thou  both  appear  and  be  holy,  be  austere  with  respect  to  thine 
own  life,  kindly  with  respect  to  the  lives  of  others.  Let  men 
hear  of  thee  as  doing  hard  things,  and  commanding  small 
things.'  But  there  are  some  wretched  men,  who  when  they  ab- 
stain and  fast,  would  have  all  men  do  likewise,  and  when  they 
are  sad,  would  have  all  be  sad,  which,  indeed,  they  do  either 
from  avai-ice  or  from  churlishness.  This  Patriarch  was  wont  to 
do  as  the  Apostle  saith  to  the  Romans,  '  Rejoice  with  them  that 
rejoice,  weep  with  them  that  weep,'  which,  indeed,  he  did  excel- 
lently, for  he  could  be  sportive  when  he  would.  Wherefore,  one 
day  as  he  sat  at  meat  with  his  whole  court  and  many  other 
guests,  he  saw  how  a  certain  jongleur  hid  by  stealth  a  silver 
spoon.  So  the  Patriarch  called  his  servant  and  said  to  him,  '  I 
will  not  return  thee  my  spoon  unless  each  one  at  this  table  shall 
first  have  returned  thee  his,'  and  so  by  this  speech  he  made  this 
seneschal  careful,  and  recovered  his  spoon.  Moreover,  the  said 
Patriarch  was  a  man  of  small  learning,  but  made  amends  for  this 
defect  by  other  good  deeds  which  he  wrought ;  for  he  was  a 
bountiful  almsgiver,  and  was  wont  daily  to  say  the  Office  for 
the  dead  with  nine  lessons.  Being,  therefore,  a  man  with  small 
learning,  who  made  up  by  good  works  for  that  to  which  he  could 
not  attain  in  books,  he  might  have  said  '  Because  I  have  not 
known  learning,  I  will  enter  into  the  powers  of  the  Lord,'  and 
so  forth  (Ps.  Ixx.  15  Vulg.)  :  for,  as  St.  Paul  saith,  'The  letter 
killeth  but  the  spirit  quickeneth.'  Because  therefore  this  Patri- 
arch continued  his  good  life  from  the  time  when  he  gave  up  his 
heart  wholly  to  love  of  God,  therefore  God  glorified  him  in 
death  by  miracles,  thus  showing  that  he  had  been  His  servant 
and  friend.  Which  miracles  I  write  not  here  for  brevity's  sake," 
Of  another  Archbishop  (Embiun)  Salimbene  records  "he  was 
made  a  Cardinal  of  the  Roman  court,  and  was  a  man  of  worth 
in  learning  and  in  song  and  in  letters  and  in  honest  and  holy  life. 
And  one  day  when  a  jongleur  had  played  his  viol  in  the  Arch- 
bishop's presence  and  begged  for  a  gift,  the  prelate  answered,  '  if 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  289 

thou  art  in  want  of  food,  I  will  give  gladly  unto  thee  for  God's 
sake  :  but  I  would  give  thee  nought  for  thy  song  and  viol-play, 
for  I  can  sing  and  play  as  well  as  thou.'  "  (323). 

Another  good  Bishop's  life  shows  that  medieval  belief  in  the 
mysterious  significance  of  anniversaries  and  symmetrical  periods 
of  time,  which  comes  out  so  strikingly  in  the  "Vita  Nuova." 
'*  At  Marseilles  a  boy  was  born  on  the  feast  of  St.  Benedict,  and 
named  Benedict ;  and  after  he  had  been  weaned,  he  was  set  to 
learn  letters  on  St.  Benedict's  day ;  afterwards,  well  versed  in 
literature  and  almost  grown  to  manhood,  he  entered  upon  St. 
Benedict's  day  into  the  Order  of  Black  Monks  of  St.  Benedict : 
and  in  process  of  time  he  was  made  sacristan  on  that  same  day. 
Then,  many  years  after,  for  his  good  life  and  manners,  the  monks 
choose  him  for  their  abbot  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Benedict ;  and 
thus,  step  by  step,  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Benedict  the  Canons  of 
Marseilles  chose  him  to  be  their  Bishop,  in  which  office  he  bore 
himself  with  all  praise.  At  length  on  the  same  day  he  entered 
the  Order  of  the  Blessed  Francis,  wherein  he  lived  humbly 
and  with  all  praise  for  ten  years,  and  breathed  his  last  on  the 
Feast  of  St.  Benedict.  He  is  buried  in  a  marble  tomb  in  the 
church  of  the  Friars  Minor  of  Marseilles,  and  God  hath  glorified 
him  by  miracles.  He  was,  indeed,  a  man  of  venerable  life, 
blessed  both  in  grace  and  in  name  .  .  .  Blessed  be  that  Bishop, 
for  he  began  well  and  ended  well,  and  the  Friars  Minor  of 
Marseilles  had  many  good  books  through  his  favour ;  for  he 
would  rather  '  be  humbled  with  the  meek  than  to  divide  the 
spoils  with  the  proud.'  " 

But  there  is  one  prelate  in  this  book  who  needs  no  apology  of 
any  kind  :  a  man  little  known  compared  with  inspired  madmen 
like  Brother  Juniper  and  Jacopone  da  Todi,  yet  a  far  truer  son 
of  the  real  Christlike  Francis.  Eudes  Rigaud,  Archbishop  of 
Rouen,  would  scarcely  have  run  stark  naked  through  the  streets 
with  Ruffino  and  his  master  :  but  he  plodded  doggedly  along  the 
thorny  path  of  office  for  27  years,  and  men  called  him  afterwards 
"  The  Model  of  Good  Life.'  ^'  One  of  the  greatest  scholars  of  his 
time,  he  quitted  his  books  to  wrestle  with  the  sordid  ignorance  of 
clergy  and  laity  in  a  great  province.  Of  noble  birth,  he  was  one 
of  the  few  friars  whom  the  princely  state  and  income  of  a  prelate 
never  tempted  away  from  their  first  simplicity :  to  the  very 
last  he  valued  his  friendship  of  King  Louis  and  his  influence 
with  the  Popes  mainly  for  the  power  they  lent  him  in  his  daily 
warfare  against  the  encompassing  wickedness.  Side  by  side  with 
St.  Bonaventura,  he  led  the  van  of  the  reformers  at  the  second 
council  of  Lyons ;  and  he  has  left  to  posterity  the  most  valuable 


290  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

episcopal  record  of  medieval  Europe — an  official  diary  so  com- 
plete, that,  except  for  two  or  three  chance  omissions,  we  may- 
trace  his  movements  and  his  labours  from  day  to  day  for  more 
than  twenty  years.  It  unfortunately  does  not  begin  until  a  month 
after  Salimbene's  meeting  with  him  and  St.  Louis  at  Sens  in 
1248.  But  it  does  record  the  Archbishop's  presence  at  Mantua, 
Ferrara,  and  Bologna  early  in  1253,  when  we  know  Salimbene  to 
have  been  living  at  Ferrara  ;  and  of  this  journey  our  chronicler 
tells  us  the  following  anecdote.  (434)  "  The  Legate  dealt  most 
generously  at  Mantua  with  Brother  Bigaud  and  all  his  household, 
when  he  passed  towards  the  Court  of  Rome  :  and  he  sent  forward 
his  seneschal  to  pay  his  expenses  as  far  as  Bologna  :  but  Brother 
Kigaud  would  not  suffer  him,  saying  that  he  and  his  whole  house- 
hold could  live  with  becoming  splendour  on  the  half  of  his  revenue, 
wherefore  the  other  half  was  superfluous  to  him.  Yet  he  had  on 
that  journey  eighty  mounted  attendants,  and  a  proper  household  ; 
and  when  he  sat  at  meat  in  the  city  of  Ferrara  he  had  with  him 
four  Friars  Minor,  who  had  gone  to  visit  him.  And  he  had 
before  him  on  the  table  two  great  bowls  of  silver,  wherein  food 
was  put  for  the  poor,  and  his  butler  always  brought  two  dishes 
of  each  kind  of  food,  according  to  the  diversities  of  meats,  and 
laid  them  before  Brother  Rigaud  :  and  he  kept  one  dish  for  him- 
self and  ate  therefrom,  and  the  other  he  poured  into  the  silver 
bowls,  for  the  poor.  And  this  he  did  with  each  course  and  each 
several  sorts  of  meats.  Now  this  Brother  Rigaud  was  of  our 
Order,  and  one  of  the  most  learned  men  in  the  world.  He  had 
been  doctor  of  theology  in  the  convent  [at  Paris]  :  being  a  most 
excellent  disputator  and  a  most  gracious  preacher.  He  wrote  a 
work  on  the  Sentences  ;  he  was  a  friend  of  St.  Louis,  King  of 
France,  who  indeed  laboured  that  he  might  be  made  Archbishop 
of  Rouen.  He  loved  well  the  Order  of  the  Friars  Preachers,  as 
also  his  own  of  the  Friars  Minor,  and  did  them  both  much  good  : 
he  was  foul  of  face,  but  gracious  in  mind  and  works,  for  he  was 
holy  and  devout,  and  ended  his  life  well ;  may  his  soul,  by  God's 
mercy,  rest  in  peace  !  He  had  a  brother  according  to  the  flesh  in 
the  Order,  a  goodly  man  and  learned,  who  was  called  Brother 
Adam  le  Rigaud.  I  saw  both  often  and  in  divers  places." 
Brother  Adam  appears  prominently  also  in  the  diary,  from  which 
I  shall  quote  later  on  to  corroborate  Salimbene's  evidence  as  to 
the  parish  clergy.  The  bitterest  epigrams  of  satirists  and  preach- 
ers, the  most  heartrending  confessions  of  great  administrators  like 
St.  Bonaventura,  are  less  dismal  on  the  whole  than  the  daily  pro- 
saic tale  of  the  struggles,  and  disappointments,  and  compromises 
of  this  other  saint  who  faced  the  most  thankless  routine  work 


The  Princes  of  the  Church.  291 

under  a  system  already  rotten  to  the  core.  Eudes  Rigaud  was 
one  of  those  true  heroes  who  plod  on  through  the  discouragements 
which  all  men  are  apt  to  feel  in  their  own  generation,  and  from 
which  most  of  us  are  tempted  to  escape  in  day-dreams  of  the 
past  or  of  the  future.  We  cannot  help  admiring  poor  Binaldo 
for  throwing  off  the  Lord  Bishop  to  beg  round  the  town  in  his 
ragged  frock,  and  presently  to  lay  his  weary  bones  in  a  grave 
which  the  poor  folk  honoured  with  their  simple  faith.  But  a 
closer  acquaintance  with  the  morals  and  manners  of  the  13th 
century  would  move  most  men  to  far  deeper  respect  for  his  sturdy 
brother  of  Rouen,  who  laboured  for  nearly  half  a  lifetime  to  make 
the  crooked  paths  straight. 


Chapter  XXIII 
Clergy  and  People. 

IT  is  sometimes  tacitly  assumed  that,  however  unworthy  the 
clergy  of  the  early  13th  century  might  have  been,  the 
Franciscan  and  Dominican  movements  soon  effected  something 
like  a  radical  reform.  Such  ideas  as  this  are  mainly  fostered 
by  a  class  of  writers  who  read  their  Franciscan  texts  only 
in  the  light  of  carefully  expurgated  Church  histories.  Father 
Cuthbert,  for  instance,  has  prefaced  his  translation  of  Thomas  of 
Eccleston  with  a  long  introduction  which  takes  the  most  medieval 
licence  with  the  facts  of  history.  He  describes  (p.  4)  the  embar- 
rassment caused  to  the  clergy  by  the  growth  of  urban  populations 
in  language  almost  strong  enough  to  describe  the  present  state  of 
things.  Yet  the  plain  fact  is  that  England  in  the  1 3th  century 
had  nearly  9000  parish  churches  to  four  million  souls — or  only 
about  450  per  parish — and  that  the  towns  were,  if  anything,  better 
off  for  priests  than  the  country  districts.  There  were  of  course 
great  inequalities  then  as  now  :  St.  Peter's  Mancroft  at  Norwich 
contained  probably  about  3000  souls  :  and  Cajsarius  speaks  of  a 
specially  large  parish  in  Germany  which  contained  10,000 : 
though  here  he  probably  takes  the  usual  medieval  licence  with 
figures.  But  any  attempt  to  represent  the  average  medieval 
town  parish  as  over-populated  is  contradicted  by  the  most 
elementary  facts  of  economic  history  :  and  such  descriptions 
as  Father  Cuthbert's  are  simply  random  exaggerations  of  the 
already  ultra-enthusiastic  picture  drawn  by  Prof.  Brewer.^  St. 
Bonaventura  does  indeed  complain  how  great  is  the  harvest  and 
how  few  the  labourers :  but  the  context  of  this  complaint,  with 
its  stress  on  the  uselessness  of  the  clergy  and  the  perversity  of 
their  flocks,  makes  it  perfectly  consistent  with  the  figures  above 
quoted  ;  especially  when  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  Italian  condi- 
tions were  definitely  worse  than  French  or  English  in  this  respect. 
The  saint,  as  one  who  both  knew  the  facts  and  had  reason  to 
weigh  his  words,  is  our  most  unexceptionable  Italian  authority 
on  this  subject.'     "  The  world,"  he  complains,  "  seems  far  worse 


Clergy  and  People.  293 

now  than  it  was  of  old " :  « many  (plures)  clergy  weaken  the 
laity  both  in  morals  and  in  faith  by  their  evil  example.  .  .  . 
Very  many  of  the  clergy  are  notorioiisly  unchaste,  keeping 
concubines  in  their  houses  or  elsewhere,  or  notoriously  sinning 
here  and  there  with  many  persons.  .  .  .  Simple  folk  might 
think  that  those  sins  among  the  clergy  were  not  hateful  to  God, 
unless  we  preached  against  them ;  and  silly  women  might  think 
that  it  was  no  fault  to  sin  with  them  ;  as  it  is  well  known  that 
some  have  been  so  persuaded  by  the  clergy.  .  .  .  Many  (plerique) 
of  them  [cannot  hear  confessions,  since]  an  honest  woman  fears 
to  lose  her  reputation  if  she  whisper  secretly  with  them  .  .  . 
Again,  whereas  the  late  Legate  in  Germany  gave  a  general 
sentence  of  suspension  from  office  and  benefice  against  clergy 
who  solicited  nuns  of  any  Order  to  sin,  and  of  excommunication 
against  all  who  actually  sinned  with  them  .  .  .  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  many  have  come  under  this  sentence."  Yet  these  go  on 
in  their  parishes  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  crucify  Christ 
daily  afresh :  while  their  confession  and  absolution  are  void 
and  their  prayers  ineffectual,  and  the  parishioners  have  no  right 
to  attend  their  Masses.  Even  these,  moreover,  are  only  a  small 
proportion  of  the  parish  priests  who  have  lost  almost  all  priestly 
powers,  and  are  therefore  worse  than  useless,  deceiving  their 
flocks  with  hollow  ministrations,  leaving  them  in  their  sins,  and 
involving  in  their  own  excommunication  those  parishioners  who 
ask  them  for  Masses  or  offer  them  money.'  For  the  unchaste, 
the  illegitimately  born,  the  simoniacal,  the  pluralists,  those  who 
have  celebrated  in  defiance  of  their  suspension — all  these 
numerous  clergy  have  become  "irregular"  and  lost  the  power 
of  binding  and  loosing  from  sin,  unless  (which  is  seldom  the  case) 
they  amend  and  procure  the  removal  of  their  disabilities.  More- 
over, even  of  those  who  have  the  strict  right  to  bind  or  loose,  few 
are  able  to  use  it  properly.  "  There  are  in  Italy  so  many  inex- 
perienced clergy  that,  even  if  they  be  well-taught  in  grammar 
and  other  knowledge,  yet  where  a  hundred  or  more  rectors  and 
vicars  are  gathered  together,  there  are  scarcely  any  (viz  pauci) 
who  have  in  fact  enough  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  to  manage 
either  the  souls  committed  to  their  care,  or  other  things  necessary 
for  salvation  .  .  .  [The  Prelates],  given  up  to  temporal  cares, 
wink  at  these  faults,  so  that  there  is  scarce  any  hope  of  amend- 
ment :  nay,  even  if  at  times  they  would  fain  correct  such  short- 
comings and  remove  the  unprofitable  clergy,  they  have  none 
better  to  put  in  their  places."  Therefore  the  Friars  themselves 
are  terribly  hampered  in  their  ministrations,  since  they  dare  not 
supersede  the  parish  clergy  too  openly  for  fear  of  increasing  what 


294 


From  St  Francis  to  Dante. 


is  already  the  main  cause  of  heresies — the  contempt  of  the  flocks 
for  their  pastors.  Almost  incredibly  dark  as  this  picture  seems, 
it  is  borne  out  by  the  contemporary  writers  Eudes  Rigaud  in 
France,  Berthold  of  Ratisbon  in  Germany,  and  Salimbene  in 
Italy.  Here,  for  instance,  is  the  latter's  report  of  the  Council  of 
Ravenna  in  1261.  (403)  It  had  been  summoned  at  the  Pope's 
bidding  to  collect  money  against  the  invading  Tartars :  but 
the  parish  clergy  refused  to  contribute  until  they  had  discussed 
the  encroachments  of  the  Friars  upon  their  duties  and  privileges. 
"  So  the  Archbishop  began  hotly  to  defend  the  Friars,  saying, 
'  Wretched  madmen  I  to  whom  shall  I  commit  the  confessions 
of  layfolk,  if  the  Friars  are  not  to  hear  them  ?  I  cannot  with 
a  safe  conscience  commit  them  to  you  :  for  if  they  come  to  you 
seeking  balm  for  their  souls,  and  desiring  to  confess,  ye  give  them 
poison  to  drink.  For  ye  lead  women  behind  the  altar  under 
pretence  of  confession,  and  there  ye  deal  as  the  sons  of  Eli  dealt 
at  the  door  of  the  tabernacle,  which  is  horrible  to  relate  and 
more  horrible  to  do.  Therefore  doth  the  Lord  complain  of  you 
through  the  mouth  of  the  prophet  Hosea  "  I  have  seen  a  horrible 
thing  in  the  house  of  Israel :  these  are  the  fornications  of  Eph- 
raim  "  :  for  therefore  are  ye  grieved  that  the  Friars  hear  confess- 
ions since  ye  would  not  that  they  should  hear  your  evil  deeds. 
Can  I  commit  women's  confessions  to  the  priest  Gerard  here  pre- 
sent, when  I  know  well  that  he  has  a  Avhole  house  full  of  sons  and 
daughters,  and  that  he  might  not  unfitly  be  spoken  of  in  the 
words  of  the  Psalmist,  "Thy  children  shall  be  like  young 
olive  trees  around  thy  table  "  ?  And  would  that  Gerard  were 
singular  in  this  matter,  and  had  no  partners  like  unto  himself  ! ' 
So  when  the  Archbishop  had  thus  spoken  his  mind,  all  were 
ashamed  who  were  conscious  of  guilt  in  this  matter."  Salimbene 
then  goes  on  to  record  two  incidents  of  which  the  first,  though 
told  originally  by  the  Bishop  within  whose  experience  it  happened, 
and  repeated  by  Pope  Alexander  IV  to  St.  Bonaventura,  cannot 
be  reproduced  here  even  in  summary.  (409)  Its  moral  is  the 
same  as  that  of  this  next  here  following.  (411)  "I  knew 
one  Brother  Umile  of  Milan,  who  was  Custode  of  the  Parma 
Custody.*  One  Lententide,  when  he  was  dwelling  in  our  convent 
of  Fano,  he  was  busy  in  preaching  and  hearing  confessions. 
The  mountaineers,  men  and  women,  hearing  this,  sent  and 
prayed  him  for  God's  sake  and  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls, 
to  deign  to  come  unto  them  ;  for  they  would  fain  confess  to  him. 
So  he  took  a  companion  and  went  unto  them  preaching  and 
hearing  confessions  for  many  days,  and  working  much  good 
there  with  his  salutary  counsels.     So  one  day  a  certain  woman 


Clergy  and  People.  295 

came  to  him  for  confession."  It  transpired  that  she  had  twice 
been  not  only  invited,  but  forced  to  sin  by  the  priests  to  whom 
she  had  come  for  confession.  "  He  therefore  said  to  her :  '  / 
have  not  invited  thee  to  sin,  nor  will  I  so  invite  thee  :  but  rather 
I  invite  thee  to  the  joys  of  Paradise,  which  the  Lord  will 
grant  thee  if  thou  love  Him  and  do  penance.'  So  he  gave 
her  absolution,  and  said,  '  What  meaneth  this  knife  which  thou 
hast  in  thy  hand,  at  such  an  hour  as  this  ?  '  She  answered, 
'  Father,  in  truth  1  was  purposed  to  stab  myself  and  die  in  my 
despair,  if  ye  had  invited  me  to  sin  as  the  other  priests  had  done.'  " 
Any  reader  who  cares  to  follow  this  subject  up  should  refer  to  the 
story  of  the  old  canon  of  Lucca  (426).  Prof.  Michael  (p.  75) 
does  Salimbene  great  injustice  in  complaining  that  our  chronicler 
relates  so  many  startling  stories  in  such  plain  language.  One  of 
the  worst  of  those  stories  (as  we  have  seen)  came  to  him  through 
a  Saint  and  a  Pope.  It  is  impossible  to  get  away  from  such 
things  in  facing  the  real  facts  of  the  Middle  Ages.  So  far  from 
being  exceptional  in  its  plain  speech,  Salimbene's  chronicle  is  at 
least  as  fit  to  be  put  into  a  girl's  hands  as  many  definitely  "  edify- 
ing "  books  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  will  bear  comparison  in  this 
respect  with  the  collections  of  anecdotes  for  sermons  made  by 
Cardinal  Jacques  de  Vitry,  the  Dominican  Etienne  de  Bourbon, 
and  the  Franciscan  Nicole  Bozon  ;  with  Bishop  Thomas  of 
Chantimpre's  edifying  treatise  De  Apibus,  or  with  that  standard 
book  of  religious  instruction,  the  Gesta  Romanorum.  It  is 
decidedly  more  decent  than  the  manual  which  the  Chevalier  de 
la  Tour-Landry  wrote  for  his  daughters,  and  which  became  at 
once  the  most  popular  educational  treatise  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
If  Salimbene,  in  speaking  of  the  clergy  of  his  time,  uses  language 
shocking  to  modern  ears,  it  is  because  he  has  to  describe  a  state 
of  things  entirely  foreign  to  modern  experience.*  For  indeed 
all  thirteenth  century  writers  who  take  their  readers  into  their 
confidence  speak  practically  with  the  same  voice  about  the  abuse 
of  the  Sacrament  of  Penitence.  They  show  us  the  confessional 
treated  as  a  farce  on  the  one  hand,  or  used  for  blackmail  and 
seduction  on  the  other :  moreover,  even  the  well-meaning 
"groper   of  consciences"  would  sometimes  put  into   innocent 

*  The  fullest  evidence  on  this  snhject  may  be  found  in  Dr.  Lea's  Cor\fesnon, 
vol.  i,  p.  382,  and  Celibacy,  pp.  350,  666,  632.  Some  who  cannot  deny  the 
accuracy  of  Dr.  Lea's  quotations  accuse  him  of  playing  the  part  of  "the  man 
with  the  muck-rake  :  "  but  readers  who  have  gone  over  a  good  deal  of  tlie  same 
ground  in  original  authorities  will  only  wonder  at  his  moderation  and  telf- 
restraint.  He  might  have  quoted  indefinitely  more  to  the  same  effect,  I'Ut  haa 
rightly  judged  it  useless  to  multiply  evidence  which  is  already  absolutely  con* 
elusive  to  any  open  noind. 


296  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

minds  ideas  hitherto  undreamt  of,  yet  henceforth  never  to  be 
forgotten,  as  Caesarius  (for  instance)  complains.  Nowadays, 
when  confession  is  practised  by  only  a  fraction  of  the  population, 
under  the  eye  of  unsympathetic  critics  and  with  hitherto  unknown 
guarantees  for  publicity,  the  system  is  no  doubt  comparatively 
free  from  those  worst  scandals  which  were  the  despair  of  good 
Churchmen  in  the  13th  century.*  No  apologist  has  ever  dared 
to  grapple  at  close  quarters  with  the  evidence  brought  forward 
thirty-eight  years  ago  by  Dr.  Lea  ;  yet  still  the  ordinary  public  has 
only  a  faint  conception  of  the  actual  facts ;  and  modern  English- 
men have  reason  to  be  proud  that  their  countrymen  are  so  slow  to 
realize  abominations  which  haunted  the  saints  of  the  Middle 
Ages  like  a  nightmare.  Moreover,  it  is  necessary  to  protest 
against  the  mischievous  modern  plea  that  most  of  these  clerical 
connexions  were  virtual,  though  not  legal,  marriages.  Even 
if  this  were  true,  what  religious  denomination  could  hold  up  its 
head  in  any  civilized  country  of  to-day,  if  a  large  proportion  of 
its  clergy,  (to  suggest  a  very  mild  parallel,)  habitually  broke  the 
law  by  marrying  their  deceased  wives'  sisters  ?  But  the  plea 
itself  contains  only  a  very  small  grain  of  truth,  even  if  we  con- 
sider 13th  century  England  and  Germany  alone,  where  the  clergy 
fought  so  hard  for  their  ancient  rights.  On  every  side  we  have 
evidence  that  the  tie  was  necessarily  furtive,  scandalous,  and 
precarious.  The  Register  of  Salimbene's  friend  Eudes  Rigaud, 
which  gives  us  the  very  names  of  the  worst  clerical  oiFenders  in 
the  diocese  of  Rouen  between  1248  and  1261,  shows  us  that 
scarcely  any  of  these  connexions  can  possibly  have  borne  the 
character  even  of  an  informal  marriage.  Many  of  them  were 
multiple  :  some  even  incestuous.  None  of  the  evidence  packed 
into  Dr.  Lea's  650  learned  pages — accurate  as  it  is  reluctantly 
allowed  to  be  even  by  hostile  critics — has  the  same  quiet  force 
as  this  diary  in  which  the  saintly  Eudes  wrote  down  sadly,  from 
day  to  day,  the  results  of  his  visitations.  In  very  few  dioceses 
in  Europe  can  the  conditions  have  been  so  favourable  as  in  that 
of  Rouen  :  yet  here  we  find,  at  the  first  visitation,  1 8  per  cent  of 
the  parishes  possessing,  to  the  Archbishop' s  knowledge,  drunken 
or  concubinary  priests.  Worse  still,  it  was  difficult  to  remove 
even  these,  and  dangerous  in  many  ways — for  what  security  had 
the  Archbishop  for  those  who  might  take  their  places  ?  True, 
the  offenders  were  ipso  facto  excommunicate  :  but  they  went  on 
deluding  their  flocks  with  sacraments  and  services  of  which  many 
were  invalid  in  Canon  Law  :  and  even  this  very  exceptionally 
strong  prelate  was  almost  powerless  against  the  dead  weight  of 
their  resistance.     As  his  contemporary  Bourbon  put  it,  the  clergy 


Clergy  and  People.  297 

cared  more  for  a  fine  of  a  few  shillings  than  for  their  bishop's 
sentence  of  excommunication  :  and,  later  on,  the  University  of 
Oxford  was  driven  to  the  same  sad  confession.* 

Not  half  a  century  after  St.  Francis's  death,  it  was  already 
impossible  for  the  Friars  to  imitate  him  in  kissing  a  priest's  hand 
as  a  rebuke  to  others  who  accused  their  pastor  of  immorality. 
These  few  years  had  made  it  quite  plain  that,  if  the  Friars  were 
ever  to  reform  the  Church,  it  must  be  in  spite  of  the  parish  priests. 
St.  Bonaventura,  as  we  have  seen,  was  driven  to  speak  of  them 
in  terms  which  might  well  seem  too  violent  in  the  mouth  of  a 
modern  Protestant :  and  1  will  here  conclude  with  Salimbene's 
racier,  though  not  more  damning,  evidence.  (425)  "I  have 
found  some  priests  lending  out  their  money  to  usury  and  en- 
riching themselves  merely  for  the  sake  of  their  bastards  :  again, 
I  have  found  others  keeping  taverns,  with  the  sign  of  the  hoop,' 
and  selling  wine,  and  their  whole  house  full  of  bastard  children, 
and  spending  their  nights  in  sin,  and  celebrating  Mass  next  day. 
And  when  the  people  communicate,  they  thrust  the  consecrated 
hosts  which  remain  over  into  clefts  of  the  wall :  though  these 
are  the  very  body  of  our  Lord.  And  many  other  foul  things 
they  do  and  horrible  to  be  told,  which  I  pass  over  for  brevity's 
sake.  They  keep  their  missals,  corporals,  and  church  ornaments 
in  an  indecent  state — coarse,  black,  and  stained  :  tiny  chalices 
of  tarnished  pewter  ;  rough  country  wine,  or  vinegar,  for  the 
Mass.  The  hosts  they  consecrate  are  so  little  as  scarce  to  be 
seen  betwixt  their  fingers — not  circular,  but  square,  and  all 
filthy  with  the  excrements  of  flies.*  Many  women  have  better 
shoe-bands  than  the  cincture,  stole,  and  maniple  of  many  priests, 
as  I  have  seen  M'ith  mine  own  eyes.  One  day  when  a  Franciscan 
friar  had  to  celebrate  Mass  in  a  certain  priest's  church  on  a  feast- 
day,  he  had  no  stole  but  the  girdle  of  the  priest's  concubine,  with 
the  bunch  of  keys  attached  :  and  when  the  friar  (whom  1  knew 
well)  turned  round  to  say  ^  Dominns  vobiscum,^  the  people  heard 
the  jingling  of  the  keys.  (425).  Am  I  then  to  preach  for 
tithes  on  these  men's  behalf  ?  or  shall  I  for  their  sake  abstain 
from  celebrating  Mass  in  our  convents,  that  they  may  the  easier 
get  offerings  to  spend  in  this  fashion  ?  God  forbid,  God  forbid  !  " 
And  he  quotes  the  evidence  of  the  so-called  Devil's  Letter^  which 
was  commonly  believed  in  the  Middle  Ages.  (419)  "  Certain  it  is 
that,  before  the  Friars  Minor  and  Preachers  had  appeared  in  the 
world,  when  the  secular  clergy  and  prelates  were  gathered  to- 

*  Cf.  Mirror  of  Perfection,  chaps.  66  and  65,  where  Leo  describea  how  St. 
Francis  used  to  carry  a  broom  to  sweep  dirty  charches,  and  tried  to  teach 
priests  to  treat  the  consecrated  host  with  more  rererence. 


298  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

gether  at  a  synod,  letters  were  thrown  into  their  midst  couched  in 
these  terms :  '  The  Princes  of  darkness  to  the  Prelates  of  the 
churches,  greeting.  We  give  you  abundant  thanks,  for  that  all  the 
souls  committed  to  you  are  transmitted  to  us.'  "* 

Moreover,  many  of  the  parish  clergy  were  as  ignorant  as  they 
were  idle  and  immoral.  Koger  Bacon,  casting  about  for  an 
illustration  of  parrot-learning  which  would  at  once  be  understood 
by  his  hearers,  wrote  "  just  as  boys  gabble  through  the  psalter 
which  they  have  learnt ;  and  as  clerks  and  country  priests  recite 
the  Church  services  (of  which  they  know  little  or  nothing)  like 
brute  beasts."  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  St.  Bonaventura,  Caesarius 
of  Heisterbach,  St.  Bernardino,  St.  Catharine  of  Siena,  and 
Sacchetti  made  similar  complaints,  which  were  echoed  in  many 
great  church  councils  during  the  times  of  St.  Francis  and  Dante. 
At  two  English  synods,  in  1222  and  1237,  it  was  enacted,  "  Let 
the  Archdeacons  see  that  the  priests  can  rightly  pronounce  at  least 
the  formula  of  consecration  [in  the  Mass]  and  that  of  baptism, 
and  that  they  clearly  understand  the  meaning  of  these  two  formu- 
las." The  modern  reader  may  well  stagger  at  the  abyss  of  ignor- 
ance revealed  by  these  injunctions,  and  hesitate  to  press  them  to 
their  legitimate  conclusion  without  further  e v  idence.  B  ut  we  ha  ve 
such  evidence  in  abundance.  For  instance,  the  Salisbury  Register 
of  St.  Osmund,  under  the  year  1222,  contains  a  record  of  the  ex- 
amination to  which  a  number  of  curates  were  submitted  who  had 
long  been  serving  livings  in  the  gift  of  the  Dean  and  Chapter. 
Five  of  these  men,  who  had  been  in  priests'  Orders  for  an  aver- 
age of  nearly  six  years,  were  unable  to  construe  or  parse  the  very 
first  words  of  the  Canon  of  the  Mass  —the  most  solemn  portion 
of  the  whole  service,  which  could  be  learnt  by  heart  almost  in  a 
single  day  by  a  man  to  whom  Latin  is  really  familiar.  What  is 
more,  there  is  no  hint  of  any  measures  taken  to  get  rid  of  these 
illiterate  priests,  though  the  Commissaries  did  superannuate 
another  worn-out  curate  whose  toothless  jaws  mumbled  so  unin- 
telligibly as  to  make  it  impossible,  (according  to  Canon  Law,) 
that  he  should  work  the  miracle  of  Transubstantiation.  It  may 
be  that  curates  were  often  hired  for  Dean  and  Chapter  livings  in 
the  cheapest  market,  as  was  notoriously  the  case  with  monastic 
churches  ;  yet  even  so  it  is  startling  to  find  five  such  incapables 
in  seventeen  parishes.  But  the  contemporary  Kegister  of 
Eudes  Rigaud  records  six  similar  examinations  of  clergy, 
with  very  similar  results.  One  candidate  could  not  even  con- 
strue annuus  :  he  dimly  thought  that  it  meant  "  often,"  and 
when  asked  "  How  often  ?  "  replied  "  Every  day  !  "  Another, 
whom  the  Archbishop  found  "  unable  to  read  competently  or 


Clergy  and  People.  299 

to  construe,"  promptly  gave  notice  of  appeal  to  the  Pope. 
Johann  Busch  gives  us  similar  evidence  for  Germany  in  the 
15th  century.  Abbot  Gasquet's  attempts  to  whitewash  English 
religious  education  in  the  later  Middle  Ages  rest,  like  so 
many  of  his  other  theses,  partly  on  disingenuous  suppressions 
and  partly  on  misquotation  of  his  documents.'  For,  as  the 
clergy  were,  so  were  their  flocks.  Bishop  Haymo  of  Hythe, 
founding  an  almhouse  in  1337  for  the  special  benefit  of  men 
of  good  position  who  had  come  down  in  the  world,  made  it  a 
sine  qua  non  that  they  should  know  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Ave, 
and  the  Creed :  and  we  have  plenty  of  evidence  to  show  how 
necessary  this  stipulation  was.  What  (for  instance)  must  have 
been  the  ignorance  of  those  lay  populations  to  whom  their  clergy 
could  quote  St.  Paul  broadcast  as  having  counselled  Christians 
to  "  walk  cautiously  even  if  they  did  not  live  chastely  "  ?  What 
was  the  education  of  those  "  many  thousands "  who,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  lying  persuasions  of  indulgence-mongers,  "  falsely 
believe  that  they  have  done  penance  for  all  their  sins  with  a  penny 
or  a  halfpenny,  and  so  go  straight  to  hell?"  These  are  the 
words  of  Brother  Berthold  of  Katisbon,  perhaps  the  greatest 
popular  preacher  of  the  13th  century,  of  whom  Roger  Bacon 
speaks  no  less  enthusiastically  than  Salimbene  :  and  the  testimony 
of  Gascoigne  two  centuries  later  is  more  damning  still.  The  plain 
proofs  of  popular  ignorance  and  irreverence,  though  they  have 
never  yet  been  fairly  faced,  are  bewildering  in  their  multiplicity. 
The  many-sided  records  of  medieval  life,  public  and  private, 
show  us  the  people  going  in  and  out  as  they  pleased  during  Mass ; 
often  coming  in  only  for  a  moment  at  the  Elevation,  and  forth- 
with "  running  off  as  if  they  had  not  seen  Christ  but  the  Devil." 
Among  St.  Louis's  brief  dying  instructions  to  his  sons  we  find 
"  attend  the  service  of  Holy  Church  devoutly  and  without  jesting 
talk."  The  knight  of  La  Tour  Landry  impresses  the  same  on  his 
daughters  :  and  his  statement  of  the  strictest  theory  on  this 
point  is  eloquent  as  to  the  laxer  practice  of  the  majority  :  "  sum 
clerkes  susteineth  that  none  shulde  not  speke  no  manere  thing 
whiles  they  bene  atte  masse,  and  in  especial  atte  the  gospel,  nor 
atte  the  '  per  omnia.'  "  Silence  during  the  Church  services  was 
among  the  nineteen  points  of  self-denial  to  which  Franciscan 
Tertiaries  were  pledged  by  their  statutes.  Visitations  of  great 
cathedral  and  collegiate  churches  record  how  the  canons  and 
vicars  walked  about  during  the  service,  chattered  with  women  in 
the  aisles,  or  across  to  each  other  in  the  choir,  mocked  aloud  at 
the  officiants,  and  played  childish  practical  jests,  dropping  hot 
wax  or  snuffings  from  their  candles  upon  the  shaven  pates  of  the 


300  From  St,  Francis  to  Dante. 

clergy  in  the  stalls  below  them  "  to  excite  ridicule  and  perhaps 
...  open  discord,  or  at  least  rancour  and  spite  of  heart.'  These 
irreverences  had  become  so  ingrained  that  the  Bishop  of  Angers 
complained  at  the  Ecumenical  council  of  Vienne  in  1311  "the 
clergy  of  collegiate  churches  .  .  .  impede  and  disturb  divine 
service,  to  the  scandal  of  many  "  :  and  a  formal  statement  to  the 
same  effect  was  solemnly  registered  by  the  Pope  in  his  collection 
of  Decretals.  Moreover,  church  councils  constantly  complain 
of  the  indevout  way  in  which  the  service  was  gabbled.  Ben- 
venuto,  in  his  note  on  Inf.  vii,  125  ff,  explains  how  Dante's 
"this  hymn  they  gurgle  in  their  throats'  contains  a  direct 
satire  upon  the  clergy :  "  since  priests,  whose  duty  it  is  to 
sing  hymns,  labour  most  of  all  under  the  vice  of  accedia  and 
asinine  sloth  (asinitatis)  ;  wherefore  such  sluggards,  when  they 
chant  divine  service,  oft-times  can  scarce  move  their  lips." 
Etienne  de  Bourbon  speaks  even  more  strongly :  a  priest  came 
back  from  the  dead  to  say  that  "  an  infinite  multitude  of  clerks 
and  priests  "  suffered  ternbly  in  hell  for  the  words  they  had 
skipped  or  mumbled  in  their  services.  "  I  have  heard  "  (he  goes 
on)  "  that  a  poor  scholar  came  from  Paris  and  helped  a  parish 

Eriest  to  celebrate  Mass.  When  the  priest  was  saying  his  hours, 
e  so  corrupted  the  verses  that  the  scholar  could  not  understand 
a  word,  but  only  the  sound  :  so  he  for  his  part  began  to  cry 
aloud  in  imitation  of  what  he  had  heard  in  Paris  of  a  workman 
crying  his  wares  (even  as,  for  instance,  botchers  of  old  clothes  cry, 
or  such  as  go  about  seeking  old  shoes,  or  muffin-men) ;  and  the 
priest  believed  him  to  have  said  all  his  responses  aright,  for  he 
understood  the  clerk  as  little  as  the  clerk  understood  him — that 
is,  he  heard  only  the  sound  of  his  voice."^'' 

We  need  hardly  wonder,  then,  that  Berthold  of  Ratisbon 
has  to  complain  of  ordinary  lay  folk  habitually  talking  at 
Mass  "  as  if  they  were  at  market."  "  Nay,  Brother  Berthold, 
we  understand  not  the  Mass,"  pleads  a  voice  from  the  congrega- 
tion. "  The  sermon  indeed  we  can  follow  word  by  word,  but 
not  the  Mass :  we  know  not  what  is  being  sung  or  read ;  we 
cannot  comprehend  it."  The  good  friar  finds  the  excuse  so  far 
justified,  that  he  spends  the  rest  of  his  sermon  in  explaining 
roughly  the  different  stages  of  the  ecclesiastical  service.  St. 
Bernardino,  again,  interrupts  one  of  his  sermons  with  the  same 
complaint.  "  Fie  on  you,  ladies  1  for  in  the  morning  while  I  am 
saying  Mass  ye  make  such  a  noise  that  I  seem  to  hear  a  pile  of 
clattering  bones,  such  a  chatter  do  ye  make.  One  says  '  Gio- 
vanna  '  !  another  cries, '  Caterina  '  !  and  a  third,  '  Francesca  '  ! 
Oh  1  your  fine  devotion  to  hear  Mass  !     To  my  poor  wits,  it  seems 


Clergy  and  People*  30 1 

to  be  mere  confusion,  without  any  devotion  or  reverence  what- 
soever. Do  ye  not  consider  that  here  we  celebrate  the  glorious 
body  of  Christ  the  Son  of  God,  for  your  salvation  ?  and  that  ye 
should  stay  so  still  that  none  should  say  a  single  husk  !  Yet 
here  comes  Madonna  Pigara,  and  would  fain  sit  in  front  of 
Madonna  SoUecita.  No  more  of  this :  *  first  at  the  mill,  first 
grind,'^^  Take  your  seats  in  order  as  ye  come,  and  let  none 
crowd  in  before  you.  And  now  to  my  sermon  again."  His 
contemporary,  Gerson,  complains  in  the  same  words  as  Berthold 
200  years  before:  "they  talk  as  if  they  were  at  market." 
Men  and  women  scuffled  and  fought  for  precedence  not  only  at 
the  Communion  but  also  at  religious  processions :  such  fights 
not  infrequently  ended  fatally.^'  Apart  from  war  and  the  name- 
less vices  of  the  soldiery,^'  even  in  times  of  peace  the  churches 
were  too  often  neglected  by  priests  and  people  alike.  Parish 
churches  and  cathedrals  were  used  as  barns ;  a  Devonshire 
parson  even  brewed  his  beer  within  the  sacred  walls.  If  the 
Keformation  had  come  in  the  middle  of  the  13th  instead  of  the 
16th  century,  there  would  have  been  comparatively  little  point  in 
Dr.  Jessopp's  articles  on  "  the  Great  Pillage."  The  separation 
of  the  sexes  during  service,  often  revived  in  our  own  day,  was  in 
those  days  a  necessary  measure  of  propriety.  The  vulgar 
proverb  that  "  thunderbolts  often  fall  on  the  church  but  never 
on  the  tavern,"  is  justified  by  Bourbon  on  the  ground  of  the 
profanities  and  indecencies  which  went  on  in  God's  house  :  and 
he  is  borne  out  by  an  anecdote  which  Wadding  quotes.^*  Really 
devout  people,  of  course,  attended  Mass  daily :  but  St. 
Bernardino  speaks  as  if  the  majority  came  only  on  Sundays,  and 
with  very  scant  reverence  even  then.  To  communicate  every 
Sunday  and  holy  day  was  very  exceptional,  and  such  superfluous 
devotion  was  sometimes  strongly  discouraged  by  the  parish 
clergy.^*  Moreover,  we  get  glimpses  here  and  there  of  the 
most  extraordinary  irregularities  even  in  the  most  ordinary 
ecclesiastical  offices.  Sacchetti  mentions  "  a  good  many  "  who 
did  not  feel  certain  that  they  had  been  baptized,  and  whom 
he  consoles  by  assuring  them  their  faith  in  the  fact  would  be 
taken  by  God  as  equivalent  to  the  fact  itself.  The  ignorant 
folk  were  withheld  from  accepting  extreme  unction  by  the 
grossest  superstitions,  and  in  Germany  at  least  by  the  heavy  fee 
which  the  clergy  demanded  for  that  sacrament.  A  Constitution 
of  Archbishop  Peckham  (1281)  complains  that  there  were  in 
England  "numberless  people  grown  old  in  evil  days  who  had 
not  yet  received  the  grace  of  confirmation : "  and  there  is 
similar  evidence  on  this  subject  from  Germany,  Flanders,  and 


302  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Austria.  Yet  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  how  numerous  and 
powerful  the  clergy  were,  what  rights  the  law  gave  them  over 
almost  every  part  of  their  parishioners'  lives,  and  how  fully  they 
insisted  on  those  rights  whenever  they  were  pecuniarily  profitable. 
Indeed,  one  of  the  main  causes  for  the  general  irreverence  was 
the  fact  that  clergy  and  people  were  constantly  quarrelling  about 
tithes.  It  was  a  matter  of  common  complaint  that  heretics 
found  their  strongest  justification  in  the  lives  of  the  clergy :  as 
Benvenuto  comments  on  Purg.  xvi.  102  :  "  we  see,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  that  the  people  catch  vices  more  readily  than  virtues  from 
the  morals  of  the  priests."  Gower  bears  him  out ;  and  the 
professor  and  the  satirist  are   outdone   in   vehemence   by  the 

geatest  saint  of  their  time.  "  It  is  impossible,"  writes  Mr.  E* 
,  Gardner,  "  to  reject  the  appalling  picture  of  the  corruption 
of  the  ministers  of  the  Church  that  is  given  us  by  St.  Catherine 
[of  Siena]  herself  in  certain  amazing  chapters  of  her  Dialogue. 
The  saint  s  own  words  make  it  abundantly  clear  that  the  lives  of 
the  great  prelates  of  the  curia  and  of  the  humblest  parish  priests 
alike  were  too  often  such  that  the  fire  from  heaven,  with  which 
Dante  and  Petrarch  had  threatened  the  Cardinals,  seemed  as 
though  it  needs  must  fall."^* 

It  need  not  surprise  us  therefore  to  find  that,  even  in  the  13th 
century,  the  heretics  were  often  distinguished  from  the  orthodox 
laity  by  their  avoidance  of  profane  oaths  and  by  their  wider 
religious  knowledge.  We  know  this  on  the  testimony  of  their 
most  determined  adversaries.  "  They  know  the  Apostle's  Creed 
excellently  in  the  vulgar  tongue,"  says  Etienne  de  Bourbon  : 
"  they  learn  by  heart  the  Gospels  of  the  New  Testament  in  the 
vulgar  tongue,  and  repeat  them  aloud  to  each  other.  ...  I  have 
seen  a  young  cowherd  who  had  dwelt  but  one  year  in  the  house 
of  a  Waldensian  heretic,  yet  had  attended  so  diligently  and 
repeated  so  carefully  all  that  he  heard,  as  to  have  learned  by 
heart  within  that  year  forty  Sunday  gospels,  not  counting  those 
for  feast-days  ....  and  other  extracts  from  sermons  and 
prayers.  I  have  also  seen  some  layfolk  who  were  so  steeped  in 
their  doctrine  that  they  could  even  repeat  by  heart  a  great  part 
of  the  Evangelists,  as  Matthew  or  Luke,  and  especially  all  that 
is  said  therein  of  our  Lord's  teaching  and  sayings  ;  so  that  they 
could  repeat  them  continuously  with  scarce  one  wrong  word 
here  and  there.  This  I  say  on  account  of  their  diligence  in  evil 
and  the  negligence  of  the  Catholics  in  good  ;  for  many  {plures) 
of  these  latter  are  so  negligent  of  their  own  and  their  families' 
salvation  as  scarce  to  know  their  Pater  or  their  Creed,  or  to  teach 
the  same  to  their  servants."     Berthold  of  Batisbon  says  the  same 


Clergy  and  People.  303 

of  the  Jews,  that  they  knew  their  Bible  better  than  Christian 
laymen,  and  were  therefore  dangerous  adversaries.  At  the  same 
time,  the  Church  blindly  attempted  to  right  herself  by  suppress- 
ing these  "  heretical "  scripture  studies,  instead  of  rivalling  them 
by  the  thoroughness  of  her  own  instruction  in  orthodoxy :  and 
even  the  enlightened  Busch,  who  would  allow  the  laity  some 
religious  books  in  their  mother  tongue,  disapproved  of  "such 
lofty  or  divine  books  "  as  a  translation  of  the  Communion  service  : 
indeed,  finding  one  in  the  hands  of  some  nuns,  he  committed  it 
to  the  flames.  The  modern  apology  that  the  authorities  forbade 
only  unorthodox  translations  of  Bibles  and  religious  books  is 
demonstrably  false."  The  Friars  had,  it  is  true,  brought  a  real 
change  into  religious  education  :  yet  even  so  the  world  of  1300 
was  far  less  in  advance  of  1200  than  both  were  still  behind  our 
present  age,  with  all  its  grievous  shortcomings.  The  Friars  did 
study  the  Bible,  in  the  earlier  generations  at  least ;  and  Salimbene 
himself  is  an  admirable  example.  But  they  did  little  to  spread 
the  knowledge  of  the  actual  text  among  the  people,  who  were  fed 
on  glosses  and  pious  embroideries  rather  than  on  the  plain  facts 
of  Bible  history.  One  of  the  most  popular  books  of  this  kind, 
St.  Bonaventura's  Hundred  Meditations  on  the  Life  of  Christy 
contains  a  good  twenty  per  cent,  of  glosses  from  the  Fathers,  or  else 
of  sheer  romance,  based  upon  the  saint's  own  surmises  of  what 
might  have  happened,  or  on  revelations  vouchsafed  to  "  a  holy 
Brother  of  our  Order."  In  spite  of  a  general  warning  at  the 
beginning  of  the  book,  and  several  others  elsewhere,  there  is 
nothing  in  most  cases  to  mark  the  transition  from  Bible  fact  to 
pious  fancy.  The  Virgin  Mary  is  constantly  brought  in  as  acting 
and  speaking  without  the  least  Biblical  authority.  And  the  ex- 
ample thus  set  by  one  of  the  first  men  of  the  century  was  natur- 
ally followed  by  others  :  e.g.  by  the  friar  who  wrote  the  very 
pretty  but  utterly  unbiblical  romance  of  the  Magdelene,  lately 
translated  by  Miss  Hawtrey.  Chaucer's  keen  eye  noted  this 
tendency  on  the  Friars'  part.  {Cant.  Tales,  D.  1790,  1920). 
St.  Bonaventura's  book,  apparently,  was  designed  for  the  im- 
mediate use  of  the  clergy,  through  whom  it  would  filter  to 
the  people :  but  in  this  indirect  process  it  would  be  just  the 
extraneous  features  of  these  Biblical  romances  which  would 
catch  the  hearers'  fancy,  and  stick  most  surely.  At  the  best, 
therefore,  the  great  bulk  of  the  people  knew  the  Bible  story 
only  with  a  strong  admixture  of  modem  Franciscan  notions." 
Here  again  Chaucer  helps  us  :  his  clerk  Nicholas,  reminding 
the  carpenter  of  Noah's  flood,  has  no  doubt  that  he  will  remember 
the  least  Biblical  feature  in  that  event  as  conceived  in   the 


304  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

later  Middle  Ages — the  refusal  of  Noah's  wife  to  embark 
until  she  had  drunk  one  more  pot  of  ale  with  her  jolly  gossips 
ashore.  It  is  true  that  many  of  St.  Bonaventura's  fancies  are 
really  beautiful  :  but  it  is  difficult  to  realize  nowadays  how 
inevitably  even  the  most  pious  fancies  ended  in  hateful  false- 
hoods, among  people  who  had  no  materials  for  criticism  and 
were  not  permitted  free  discussion.  A  single  example  may 
suffice.  The  legends  of  the  early  martyrs  had  inspired  many 
generations  of  Christians ;  and  the  pious  enthusiasm  with  which 
each  martyrologist  would  outbid  his  predecessors  in  describing 
their  odour  of  sanctity  and  their  joy  under  torments  might  well 
seem  harmless  or  even  praiseworthy.  Yet  these  legends,  from 
the  13th  century  onwards,  served  to  steel  the  hearts  of  naturally 
charitable  men  against  the  most  devilish  cruelties  practised  on 
their  fellow-Christians.  St.  James  of  the  Mark,  arguing  with 
those  Fraticelli  whose  faith  had  originated  in  loyalty  to  the 
Franciscan  tradition,  takes  it  as  a  plain  note  of  uncatholicity 
that  their  sect  does  not  flourish,  like  the  early  Christians,  under 
the  unrelenting  persecutions  to  which  it  is  subjected.  Again, 
(he  argues)  when  a  heretic  is  burnt  the  odour  of  sanctity  is  en- 
tirely wanting  :  "  for  instance,  when  the  Pope  Nicholas  V  was  at 
Fabriano,  certain  heretics  were  burned  there,  and  the  stench  of 
them  filled  the  city  three  days  long ;  this  I  know,  for  I  smelt 
the  evil  savour  all  those  three  days  even  in  our  convent."  Etienne 
de  Bourbon  tells  a  similar  story  ;  and  St.  Bernardino  of  Siena 
was  of  the  same  mind.^^  When  we  consider  in  what  blind 
reliance  on  this  and  similar  pious  figments  whole  populations  have 
been  exterminated  at  the  bidding  of  men  who  thought  to  do  God 
service,  we  may  well  be  thankful  that  the  poorest  in  our  own  age 
have  at  any  rate  some  chance  of  checking  mistaken  glosses  by 
comparison  with  the  text  to  which  all  Christians  nominally  appeal 
in  the  last  resort. 

I  am  quite  aware  that  much  of  what  1  have  written  in  this 
chapter  will  excite  strong  disapproval  in  many  quarters,  and 
that  in  one  sense  the  very  strength  of  my  evidence  may  render  it 
scarcely  credible  to  modem  readers.  1  would  only  repeat  that 
while  I  have  often  tried  in  vain  to  obtain  any  real  evidence  from 
apologists  of  the  Middle  Ages,  I  am  always  ready  to  discuss  this 
and  similar  questions,  at  my  own  expense,  with  any  competent 
student  of  medieval  history. 


Chapter  XXIV. 
Faith. 

IF  we  are  to  define  faith  as  we  define  no  other  virtue,  and 
measure  it  by  its  outward  manifestation  rather  than  by  the 
inward  working  of  the  heart ;  if  we  esteem  more  highly  the 
assent  to  certain  dogmas  imposed  from  without  than  the  soul's 
own  sincere  effort  to  climb  to  the  highest  realities  within  its  ken, 
then  no  doubt  the  13th  century  was  an  age  of  faith  compared 
with  ours.  But  such  a  definition  of  faith,  which  would  have 
made  St.  Paul's  conversion  impossible,  and  left  him  at  best  a 
staunch  though  tolerant  Pharisee,  is  becoming  daily  more  dis- 
credited. It  seems  strange  that  it  should  ever  have  grown  up 
under  the  name  of  Christ,  who  valued  the  widow's  mite  not  at 
its  market  price  but  at  the  rate  of  the  inward  effort  which  had 
prompted  the  gift.  Measured  by  its  living  faith,  the  13th  centurj-^ 
can  claim  no  advantage,  to  say  the  least,  over  the  20th.  Again, 
it  is  only  a  superficial  view  of  history  which  would  represent  our 
ancestors  as  the  merely  passive  recipients  of  a  creed  formulated 
by  the  Fathers  of  the  church,  and  made  binding  on  the  consciences 
of  the  faithful  by  the  decrees  of  Popes  and  Councils.  On  the 
contrary,  many  of  the  most  distinctive  tenets  of  Romanism  grew 
up  from  helow^  and  were  only  accepted  later  on  by  Priests  and 
Bishops,  Doctors  of  the  Church  and  Popes.  In  many  matters, 
of  course,  Dante's  ideas  are  far  in  advance  of  the  current  religion 
of  his  age  ;  and  in  no  matter  more  definitely  than  in  his  conception 
of  purgatory  as  a  place  where  the  soul  is  conscious  of  its  own 
happy  growth  in  peace  of  mind  as  in  fitness  to  appear  before 
God.  But  many  other  elements  of  that  religion  which  Dante 
learned  first  at  his  mother's  knee,  and  could  never  seriously 
question  in  after  life,  had  been  born  among  the  ignorant.  Thence 
they  had  risen  and  spread  slowly  from  generation  to  generation, 
until  at  last  they  had  been  brought  into  some  sort  of  harmony 
with  scripture  and  reason  by  Schoolmen  who  themselves  also  had 
sucked  these  doctrines  in  with  their  mother's  milk.  Since  the 
times  when  Christianity  first  became  a  great  world-creed,  the 
mass  of  the  faithful  had  never  been  really  imbued  with  a  knowledge 


3o6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

of  the  New  Testament :  and  they  had  retained,  with  or  without 
sacerdotal  permission,  much  of  their  old  heathenism.  Origen, 
writing  about  230  a.d.  to  rebut  the  arguments  of  the  philosopher 
Celsus,  laughs  at  the  learned  pagan  for  contending  that  he  can 
raise  his  mind  to  the  Unseen  bj  gazing  at  or  praying  to  a  statue  ; 
he  shames  him  by  explaining  how  "  a  Christian,  however 
unlearned,  is  persuaded  that  every  corner  of  the  world  is  a  part 
of  God's  whole  temple  ;  so  that  he  prays  everywhere  with  his 
bodily  eyes  closed,  and,  raising  his  spiritual  eyes,  soars  in  con- 
templation above  the  whole  universe."^  Little  by  little,  how- 
ever, the  practice  of  image-worship  crept  in ;  it  was  definitely 
legalized  in  787,  after  a  long  struggle,  by  the  2nd  Council  of 
Nicaea  ;  and  in  the  later  Middle  Ages  Christians  were  burned 
for  maintaining  a  doctrine  which  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
Fathers  had  described  as  notorious  even  among  the  most  unlearn- 
ed. We  see  the  same  process,  to  the  very  end  of  the  13th  century, 
in  the  canonization  of  saints,  in  spite  of  a  Bull  of  1181  which 
claimed  the  right  exclusively  for  Popes.*  John  of  Parma  is  only 
one  of  hundreds  who  were  worshipped  without  leave  from  the 
Pope — often  without  any  leave  at  all.  In  each  case  it  is  the  same 
story.  The  cult  began  among  the  people  and  lower  clergy  :  the 
Bishops  were  gradually  forced  to  take  notice  of  it :  by  this  time 
it  was  already  an  ineradicable  part  of  popular  religion,  and  the 
Pope  had  little  choice  but  to  sanction  it.  Or,  as  in  many  cases 
of  very  respectable  cults  which  still  survive,  there  was  no  papal 
sanction  of  any  kind,  until  the  Bull  of  1675  granted  a  prescriptive 
right  of  existence  to  all  worships,  however  little  proof  of  authority 
they  could  show,  which  had  enjoyed  a  continuous  existence  of 
200  years.  The  feast  of  Corpus  Christi,  one  of  the  most  solemn 
and  striking  of  all  in  the  modern  Komau  Church,  grew  up  entirely 
from  below.  It  was  first  suggested  by  a  visionary  girl :  the 
Office  was  composed  by  a  young  unlearned  priest  :  but  the 
worship  caught  like  wild-fire  among  the  people,  and  at  last  forced 
itself  through  all  obstacles  into  recognition  by  Prelates  and 
Popes.^  The  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  was  repro- 
bated by  St.  Bernard,  and  formed  no  part  of  Dante's  theology. 
It  was  consistently  opposed  throughout  the  Middle  Ages  by 
the  Dominicans,  the  most  learned  Order  in  the  Church:  but 
the  Franciscans,  strong  in  the  popular  support,  at  last  carried 
the  day.  Practically  all  the  differences  between  Dante's  creed 
and  St.  Paul's  had  originated  thus  in  the  popular  imagination  : 
and  Salimbene  better  than  most  men  shows  us  that  imagination 
at  work.  He  gives  more  than  one  admirable  example  of  popular 
canonization  :  and  his  descriptions  are  corroborated  by  other  con- 


Faith.  307 

temporaries.  (501)  "  In  this  same  year  1279  appeared  the  cozen- 
ing miracles  of  a  certain  Alberto  who  dwelt  at  Cremona.  This 
man  was  a  wine-porter,  loving  the  wine-pot,  and  living  in  sin  ;  • 
after  whose  death,  as  men  said,  God  wrought  manj  miracles  in 
Cremona,  Parma,  and  Reggio.  In  Reggio  He  wrought  them  in 
the  church  of  St.  George  and  of  the  Blessed  John  the  Baptist, 
in  Parma  in  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  which  is  by  the  Piazza 
Nuova,  where  all  the  wine-porters  of  the  city  were  gathered 
together ;  and  blessed  was  the  man  or  woman  who  could  touch 
[his  relics,]  or  give  anything  of  his  own.  And  they  made 
gilds  in  divers  quarters  of  the  town,  and  went  out  into  the 
streets  and  squares  to  gather  together  in  pairs  and  walk  in 
procession  to  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  where  the  relics  of  that 
Alberto  were  kept.  They  bore  crosses  and  banners,  and 
chanted  as  they  went,  and  gave  purple  and  samite  and  brocade 
of  Bagdad,  and  much  money  ;  all  which  the  wine-porters  divided 
among  themselves,  and  kept  to  their  own  use.  So  the  parish 
priests,  seeing  this,  caused  this  Alberto  to  be  portrayed  in  their 
own  churches,  that  they  might  the  easier  obtain  offerings  from 
the  people.  And  not  only  in  the  churches  was  his  likeness 
painted  in  those  days,  but  even  on  many  walls  and  porticoes 
of  the  cities  and  villages  or  country  towns.  Yet  this  is  known 
to  be  directly  against  the  statutes  of  the  Church,  for  no  man's 
relics  may  be  held  in  reverence  except  they  be  first  approved  by 
the  Church  of  Rome,  and  written  in  the  catalogue  of  the  Saints. 
Nor  may  any  man  be  portrayed  anywhere  as  a  Saint  except  his 
canonization  be  first  published  by  the  Church.  Wherefore  the 
Bishops  who  suffered  such  abuses  to  be  done  in  their  dioceses  or 
under  their  rule  would  deserve  to  be  removed  from  their  bishop- 
rics, and  wholly  deprived  of  their  dignity.  Yet  he  who  was 
absent  from  this  solemnity  was  held  for  an  heretic,  and  envious ; 
and  the  seculars  would  say  loudly  and  audibly  to  the  Friars 
Minor  and  Preachers  *  Ye  think  that  none  can  do  miracles  except 
your  own  Saints  :  but  yc  are  much  deceived,  as  may  be  seen 
now  in  this  man.'  But  God  swiftly  purged  this  reproach 
from  His  servants  and  friends  by  showing  forth  the  l^ing  men 
who  had  espoused  them,  and  punishing  those  who  laid  a  blot 
on  the  elect.  For  some  came  from  Cremona  claiming  to  have 
brought  relics  of  this  Saint  Alberto,  namely,  the  little  toe 
of  his  right  foot ;  so  that  all  the  men  of  Parma  were  gathered 
together,  from  the  least  even  unto  the  greatest ;  men  and 
women,  young  men  and  maidens,  old  men  and  jouths,  clerks 
and  laymen,  and  all  the  men  of  Religion  :  and  m  solemn  pro- 

•  Vint  portator  timul  et  potator  nee  non  tt  peceatcr. 


3o8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

cession,  with  many  chants,  they  bore  that  toe  to  the  cathedral 
church,  which  is  dedicated  to  the  glorious  Virgin.  When  there- 
fore the  aforesaid  toe  had  been  laid  on  the  high  altar,  there 
came  the  Lord  Anselmo  di  Sanvitale,  canon  of  the  cathedral 
church  and  at  one  time  vicar  to  the  Bishop,  and  kissed  the 
relic.  Whereupon  becoming  aware  of  a  savour  (or  rather,  a 
stench)  of  garlic,  he  made  it  known  to  the  other  clergy,  who 
themselves  also  saw  that  they  were  both  deceived  and  confoun- 
ded ;  for  they  found  therein  nought  but  a  clove  of  garlic. 
And  so  the  men  of  Parma  were  despised  and  mocked,  for  that 
they  had  walked  'after  vanity,  and  become  vain.'  Wherefore 
the  sinner  or  the  sick  man  errs  greatly  who  leaves  famous  Saints, 
and  turns  to  call  on  one  who  cannot  be  heard.  Note  now  and 
diligently  consider  that,  as  the  men  of  Cremona  and  Parma  and 
Reggio  wrought  folly  of  late  with  their  brentadore  Alberto,  even 
so  do  the  Paduans  work  folly  with  one  Antonio  a  pilgrim,  and 
the  men  of  Ferrara  with  a  certain  Armanno  Punzilovo  :  but  the 
Lord  came  also  truly  in  the  blessed  Francis  and  the  blessed 
Anthony  and  St.  Dominic  and  in  their  sons,  in  whom  sinners 
should  believe.  Now  this  devotion  to  the  false  Saint  had  its 
origin  in  many  reasons  :  among  the  sick,  because  they  sought  to 
be  healed ;  among  the  curious,  because  they  desired  to  see  new 
things ;  among  the  clergy,  on  account  of  the  envy  which  they 
have  to  modern  men  of  Religion  [i.e.  the  new  Orders  of  Friars]  ; 
among  the  Bishops  and  Canons  on  account  of  the  gains  thereby 
accruing  to  them,  as  is  plain  in  the  matter  of  the  Bishop  of  Ferrara 
and  his  canons,  who  gained  much  by  occasion  of  Armanno 
Punzilovo.  Also  [the  devotion]  grew  among  those  who,  having 
been  driven  from  their  cities  for  their  adherence  to  the  Emperor's 
party,  hoped  through  these  miracles  of  new  saints  to  make  peace 
with  their  fellow-citizens,  whereby  they  might  be  brought  back 
into  possession  of  their  earthly  goods,  and  no  longer  wander 
homeless  through  the  world."  The  contemporary  author  of  the 
Chronico7i  Parmense  gives  Alberto  a  better  character,  and  seems 
rather  more  inclined  to  believe  in  his  miracles.  He  describes 
the  Piazza  outside  the  church  of  St.  Peter  as  encumbered  with 
booths,  in  which  the  sick  lay  ;  and  tells  how  a  great  part  of  the 
offerings  to  the  new  saint  were  devoted  to  the  building  of  a 
hospital.  Of  Armanno  Punzilovo  we  only  know  that,  after  he 
had  been  worshipped  for  thirty  years,  the  inquisitors  found  him  to 
have  been  a  seducer  and  a  heretic  :  whereupon  his  corpse  was 
torn  from  its  shrine  and  burned.*  A  still  stranger  case  of  the 
same  sort  happened  in  these  days  at  Milan,  though  Salimbene 
does  not  mention  it.     A  woman  named  Guglielma  passed  during 


Faith. 


309 


her  lifetime  for  an  Incaraation  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  She  was 
worshipped  for  some  years  specially  by  people  of  the  wealthy 
class,  under  the  direct  patronage  of  the  Cistercian  monks  and 
without  opposition  from  the  Archbishop,  until  the  matter  was 
taken  up  by  the  Inquisition.  The  reader  may  have  been  struck 
by  the  serious  failings  which  Salimbene  attributes  to  these  ob- 
jects of  popular  worship  in  his  time  ;  but  moral  excellence, 
though  undoubtedly  an  advantage,  was  by  no  means  a  sine  qua 
non  in  these  cases.  One  of  the  scandalous  cases  quoted  by  Gui- 
bert  of  Nogent  is  that  of  an  abbot  whose  claims  to  sanctity, 
under  investigation,  reduced  themselves  to  this :  that  he  had 
fallen  down  a  well  in  a  state  of  intoxication  and  so  perished. 
Canonization,  again,  was  one  of  the  regular  forms  of  popular  pro- 
test in  purely  political  quarrels  :  there  was  a  constant  stream  of 
pilgrims  to  the  tombs  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  of  King  Henry  VI, 
and  even  of  the  selfish  and  despicable  Thomas  of  Lancaster,  who 
worked  far  more  miracles  than  many  of  his  betters.  While  the 
soul  of  Martin  IV  was  expiating  in  Dante's  purgatory  those  sur- 
feits of  Bolsena  eels  and  Vernaccia  wine,  his  body  was  busily 
working  miracles  on  earth.  So  also  did  the  body  of  Gregory 
IX,  a  far  more  remarkable  Pope,  though  he  was  believed  by 
many  to  have  had  an  illegitimate  son,  and  certainly  did  more 
than  any  other  Pope  of  the  13th  century  to  degrade  the  first 
Franciscan  ideal. 

The  wine-bibbing  wine-porter  at  Parma,  and  the  Incarnation 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  at  Milan,  were  in  the  fresh  bloom  of  their 
saintship  on  the  day  on  which  Dante  first  spoke  to  Beatrice  :  and 
Sacchetti  shows  us  a  similar  picture  after  the  poet's  death. 
There  was  a  strong  popular  movement  to  canonize  Urban  V, 
whose  life  contrasted  favourably  with  that  of  most  XIV  Century 
Popes.'  Sacchetti,  writing  to  a  friend  in  1365,  does  not  stick  at 
calUng  it  sheer  idolatry.  He  complains  that,  in  the  great 
Baptistery  of  Florence — Dante's  bel  San  Giovanni — the  brand- 
new  image  of  this  unauthorized  saintling  "  had  before  it  a  lighted 
wax  torch  of  two  pounds'  weight,  while  the  Crucifix  hard  by  had 
but  a  mean  penny  taper.  ...  If  a  man  were  new  come  into  the 
world,  without  knowledge  of  divine  things,  and  if  we  told  him 
*  One  of  these  two  is  the  King  of  Everlasting  Life  ; '  then,  con- 
sidering the  painting  and  the  light,  he  must  needs  have  believed 
that  Pope  Urban  was  He.  .  .  .  The  cause  of  this  is  in  the 
clergy,  who  consent  to  these  things  in  their  avarice,  to  make 
men  draw  to  them.  .  .  .  You  tell  me  how  Marquis  Ghino 
Cittadella  once  said  that  these  new-fangled  saints  made  him  lose 
faith  in  the  old.     Are  not  this  nobleman's  words  indeed  true  ? 


3IO  •  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  who  is  to  assure  us  that  there  are  not  many  (assai)  who  sur- 
mise that  other  saints  began  in  this  fashion,  first  with  mere  rays 
round  their  head  and  *Beato'  on  the  label  under  their  feet; 
until  in  process  of  time  the  rays  have  become  a  halo,  and  the 
Beato  a  Saint  ?  How  can  we  oelieve  in  our  priests,  when  they 
raise  on  high  the  bodies  of  these  Beati,  setting  lights  and 
waxen  images  round  them,  while  our  Lord  and  the  Virgin 
Mother  are  portrayed  in  the  gloom,  almost  on  the  level  of  the 

f  round,  and  without  a  single  light  ?  .  .  .  .  The  Friars  Minor  of 
'lorence  have  the  bodies  of  St.  Bartolommeo  Pucci  and  St. 
Gerard  of  Villamagna  and  Santa  Umiliana  de'  Cerchi,  who  have 
passed  from  Beati  to  Saints  ;  and  are  all  honoured  with  many 
tapers,  while  our  Lord  and  the  Apostles,  and  even  St.  Francis, 
have  none.  And  the  Friars  Preachers  have  the  blessed  Giovanna 
....  and  the  blessed  Villana,  a  girl  who  dwelt  in  Florence, 
hard  by  mine  own  house,  and  who  went  about  clothed  like  other 
folk  ;  and  now  they  make  much  of  her,  and  St.  Dominic  stands 
aside."  So  also  with  the  other  friars  :  brand-new  saints  have 
almost  driven  St.  Augustine  and  St.  Benedict  out  of  mind.  As 
to  the  Santo  Volto  of  Lucca,  no  man  knows  its  history,  and  the 
most  miraculous  thing  about  it  is  its  hideousness  :  two  holy  friars 
have  preached  openly  against  its  worship.*  Nor  are  the  miracles 
less  doubtful :  a  blind  friend  of  Sacchetti's  pressed  into  the 
crowd  to  touch  one  of  these  new  saints,  and  came  out  as  blind 
as  he  went,  but  with  his  nose  cleft  almost  in  half :  a  peasant 
returning  from  the  same  saint  found  that  he  had  only  lost  his 
purse.  *'  I  have  no  space  to  tell  how  wide  this  error  is  spread  in 
our  days,  solely  because  it  brings  grist  to  some  men's  mills.  And 
the  Pope  pays  no  attention  :  he  has  greater  things  to  do.  .  .  . 
How  many  changes  have  there  been,  in  my  city  of  Florence  alone, 
in  the  figure  of  our  Lady  I  There  was  a  time  when  all  flocked  to 
Santa  Maria  da  Cigoli :  then  it  was  Santa  Maria  della  Selva  : 
then  grew  up  the  fame  of  Santa  Maria  in  Pruneta  :  then  Santa 
Maria  Primeriana  at  Fiesole  :  then  our  Lady  of  Or  San  Michele  : 
then  all  these  were  left  in  the  lurch,  all  flock  now  after  La 
Nunziata  de'  Serri,  round  whom  so  many  images  have  been  hung, 
one  way  or  another,  that  if  the  walls  had  not  been  bound  with 
chains  of  late,  they  bade  fair  to  fall  flat  to  the  ground,  roof  and 
all.  .  .  .  And  so  our  folk  are  clear  of  sin,  God  knows  how,  as 
though  our  Lady  had  more  might  to  work  graces  in  one  place 
than  in  another  !  " 

This  then  was  what  men  of  learning  and  ability  said  to  each 
other  in  14th  century  Florence.  But  in  Salimbene's  Lombai-dy 
of  a  century  earlier  it  was  easier  to  keep  some  belief  in  these  new 


Faith.  311 

saints— at  any  rate,  in  those  of  one's  own  Order  or  party.  Salim- 
bene  seems  as  naively  delighted  as  Charles  of  Anjou  at  the  dis- 
covery of  a  fresh  body  of  "  the  Magdalene,  whole  save  for  one 
leg"  near  Aix  in  Provence  (520)  "where  I  dwelt  in  the  year 
when  the  King  of  France  went  on  his  Cmsade,  for  I  was  of 
the  convent  there.  When  this  body  was  found,  her  epitaph 
could  scarce  be  read  with  a  crystal  glass,  for  the  antiquity  of  the 
writing.  And  it  pleased  King  Charles  that  the  body  should  be 
displayed  abroad  and  exalted  and  honoured,  and  that  a  solemn 
feast  should  be  made  in  her  honour.  And  so  it  was  :  wherefore 
the  contentions  and  contradictions  and  cavils  and  abuses  and 
falsehoods  which  were  of  old  concerning  her  body  are  henceforth 
ended.  For  the  men  of  Sinigaglia  had  formerly  claimed  to  possess 
it,  and  the  men  of  Vezelay  had  it  likewise,  as  they  said,  and  had 
even  a  legend  thereof:  but  it  is  manifest  that  the  body  of  the 
same  woman  cannot  be  in  three  places.  (For  this  same  cause 
there  is  a  bitter  quarrel  at  Ravenna  concerning  the  body  of  St. 
ApoUinare,  for  the  men  of  Chiassi,  which  was  once  a  city,  say 
that  they  possess  it :  and  the  citizens  of  Ravenna  claim  to  possess 
it  too.)  Now  the  Magdalene's  cave,  wherein  she  did  penitence 
thirty  years,'  is  five  miles  distant  from  Marseilles,  and  I  slept 
there  one  night  immediately  after  her  feast.  It  is  in  a  high  rocky 
mountain,  and  great  enough,  if  I  remember  well,  to  contain  a 
thousand  men.  There  are  three  altars  and  a  dropping  well  of 
water  like  unto  the  well  of  Siloa,  and  a  most  fair  road  to  it,  and 
without  is  a  church  hard  by  the  cave,  where  dwells  a  priest ;  and 
above  the  cave  the  mountain  is  as  high  again  as  the  height  of  the 
Baptistery  of  Parma,  and  the  cave  itself  is  so  far  raised  above 
the  level  groimd  that  three  towers  like  that  of  the  Asinelli  of 
Bologna  could  not  reach  it,  if  1  remember  aright :  so  that  great 
trees  which  grow  below  show  like  nettles  or  bushes  of  sage  ;  and 
since  this  region  is  utterly  uninhabited  and  desolate,  therefore 
the  women  and  noble  ladies  of  Marseilles  when  they  oome  thither 
for  devotion's  sake  bring  with  them  asses  laden  with  bread  and 
wine,  and  pasties  and  fish,  and  such  other  meats  as  they  desire. 
Here  then  is  a  miracle  for  the  confirmation  of  the  Invention  of 
the  Magdalene's  body  ;  which  miracle  the  Lord  showed  through 
her  to  prove  that  it  is  hers  indeed.  In  those  days  a  young 
butcher  was  going  upon  the  road,  and  an  acquaintance  asked  him 
whence  he  came.  He  answered,  '  From  the  town  of  St.  Maximin, 
where  the  body  of  the  blessed  Mary  Magdalene  has  been  newly 
found  ;  and  I  kissed  her  leg.'  The  other  answered,  '  Thou  hast 
kissed  no  leg  of  hers,  but  rather  the  leg  of  an  ass  or  a  mare,  which 
the  clergy  show  to  the  simple  for  lucre's  sake.'     When  tliereforo 


312  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

a  great  contention  had  arisen  between  these  two  concerning  this 
matter,  the  undevout  man  who  believed  not  in  the  Magdalene 
smote  the  devout  man  with  many  blows  of  his  sword,  yet  he  with 
the  Magdalene's  help  took  no  hurt.  Then  he  who  was  devoted  to 
the  Magdalene  smote  the  undevout  man  but  once,  and  there 
needed  no  more ;  for  he  straightway  lost  his  life  and  found  his 
death.  So  the  champion  of  the  Magdalene,  grieving  that  he  had 
slain  a  man,  even  in  self-defence,  and  fearing  to  be  taken  by 
the  kinsfolk  of  the  deceased,  fled  to  the  city  of  Aries  and 
thence  to  St.-Gilles,  that  he  might  be  safe  there,  and  give  place 
unto  wrath.  But  the  father  of  the  slain  man,  by  a  bribe  to  a 
traitor,  caused  the  slayer  of  his  son  to  be  cast  into  prison,  for  he 
was  already  condemned  to  be  hanged.  Yet  in  the  night  before 
his  execution,  as  he  lay  awake  in  his  cell,  the  Magdalene  appeared 
to  him  and  said,  '  Fear  not,  my  servant,  defender  and  champion 
of  mine  honour,  for  thou  shalt  not  die :  I  will  help  thee  in  due 
time,  that  all  men  who  see  may  marvel  and  give  thanks  to  God 
our  Creator,  Who  worketh  marvels,  and  to  me.  His  servant.  But 
when  thou  shalt  be  free,  remember  this  kindness  that  I  have  done 
thee,  and  give  the  reward  of  this  good  fortune  to  God  thy  liberator, 
to  the  benefit  of  thine  own  soul.'  With  these  words  the  Magdalene 
disappeared,  and  left  the  man  comforted.  Next  day,  when  he 
was  hanged  on  the  gallows,  yet  his  body  felt  neither  harm  nor 
pain  ;  and  suddenly,  in  the  sight  of  all  who  had  come  to  see, 
there  flew  swiftly  down  from  heaven  a  dove,  dazzling  white  as 
snow,  and  alighted  on  the  gallows,  and  loosed  the  knot  round  the 
neck  of  the  hanged  man,  its  own  devotee,  and  laid  him  on  the 
earth  wholly  unhurt.  But  when  the  officials  and  men  of  jiistice, 
at  the  instigation  of  the  dead  man's  relatives,  would  have  hanged 
him  again,  he  escaped  by  the  goodwill  of  the  butchers,  of  whom 
a  very  great  band  was  there,  ready  armed  with  swords  and  staves  ; 
for  he  had  been  their  comrade  and  friend,  and  they  had  also  seen 
this  stupendous  miracle.  Therefore  when  he  had  told  all  men  how 
he  had  slain  the  man  unwillingly  to  defend  his  own  life  and  the 
Magdalene's  honour,  and  how  the  Saint  had  promised  him  in  his 
dungeon  that  she  would  free  him  when  the  time  came,  then  they 
held  themselves  satisfied,  and  praised  God  and  the  blessed  Mag- 
dalene who  had  freed  him.  And  the  Count  of  Provence,  hearing 
these  things,  desired  to  see  the  man  and  to  hear  it  from  his  own 
lips,  and  to  keep  him  about  his  person  at  the  court  all  the  days 
of  his  life.  Yet  he  answered  that  if  any  should  ofl'er  him  the 
lordship  of  the  whole  world  he  would  not  end  his  life  anywhere 
but  in  the  service  of  the  Magdalene,  in  the  town  of  St.  Maximin, 
in  the  place  wherein  her  body  was  newly  found  in  this  year  1283." 


Faith. 


313 


While  entirely  agreeing  with  Salimbene  that  the  Magdalene's 
body  could  hardly  be  in  three  places  at  once,  we  may  well  decline 
to  accept  the  butcher's  evidence  as  conclusive.  This  saint  is 
indeed  one  of  the  most  ubiquitous  and  elusive  of  the  whole 
calendar.  Vincent  of  Beauvais  describes  her  translation  from 
Aix  to  V^zelay  in  a.d.  746  :  though  even  then  some  men  claimed 
that  she  was  at  Ephesus.  In  898  her  body  was  at  Constantinople  : 
in  1 146  it  was  at  Vezelay.  In  1254  St.  Louis  went  and  worshipped 
it  at  Ste-Baume,  which  is  the  first  hint  we  get  of  her  ever  having 
been  in  Provence.  In  1267,  again,  the  saintly  king  showed  his 
impartiality  by  assisting  in  state  at  the  solemn  translation  of  the 
rival  corpse  of  Vezelay,  and  dividing  some  fragments  of  the  relics 
with  the  Papal  Legate.  In  1281,  that  Legate,  now  Pope  Martin 
IV,  gave  to  the  Cathedral  of  Sens  a  rib  from  the  Vezelay  corpse, 
and  declared  in  his  accompanying  Bull  that  this  was  the  genuine 
body.  Rome  had  spoken,  and  the  dispute  was  for  the  moment 
nominally  settled  :  yet  here,  only  two  years  later,  we  find  the 
Pope's  particular  friend  Charles  of  Anjou  ostentatiously  patroniz- 
ing the  rival  corpse  ;  and  Salimbene,  writing  a  year  later  again, 
imagines  that  the  claims  of  Vezelay  and  Sinigaglia  are  dead  for 
ever  !  No  doubt  the  perplexed  faithful  consoled  themselves  as 
Sir  John  Maundeville  did  for  the  similar  multiplication  of  St. 
John's  head  :  "  I  know  not  which  is  true,  but  God  knows  ;  but 
however  men  worship  it,  the  blessed  John  is  satisfied."^ 

This  is  not  the  place  to  treat  fidly  of  13th  century  infidelity  : 
but  its  prevalence  may  be  established  by  details  as  manifold  and 
as  startling  as  those  which  I  have  briefly  summarized  to  indicate 
the  prevailing  ignorance  and  irreverence.  Apart  from  noble 
ruffians  like  Alberigo  and  Nero  da  Leccaterra,  who  had  apparently 
just  enough  belief  in  God's  existence  to  lend  point  to  their  obscene 
blasphemies,  four  definite  kinds  of  unbelief  may  be  traced.  There 
was  the  learned  scepticism  of  the  universities  and  of  Frederick's 
court,  well  described  in  Renan's  Averro'es :  and  the  scoflling 
scepticism  of  the  rich  and  self-indulgent,  conspicuous  in  Piers 
Plowman  and  in  Sacchetti's  Sermons.  Again,  a  certain  fatalism 
and  semi-Mahomedanism  was  brought  home  from  the  Crusades  : 
and  the  failure  of  these  holy  wars  provoked,  as  we  have  seen,  an 
explosion  of  popular  infidelity  throughout  Europe.  Lastly, 
there  was  the  involuntary  scepticism  of  the  pious  and  faithful 
soul :  a  state  of  mind  which  is  often  ignorantly  spoken  of  as 
purely  modem.  Joinville  has  recorded  a  stock  instance  of  this  : 
Franciscan  and  Dominican  writers  are  full  of  similar  indica- 
tions, from  St.  Bonaventura  downwards.  Female  saints  were 
specially    tortured   with   such   doubts.      Gerson   wrote   a  long 


314  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

treatise  on  the  subject  :  but  perhaps  the  most  interesting  con- 
fession comes  from  his  younger  contemporary,  Johann  Busch.^ 
"  What  temptations  I  suiFered  as  a  novice,"  (he  writes)  "  and 
especially  concerning  the  Catholic  faith,  God  alone  knoweth, 
from  whom  nothing  is  hid.  .  .  .  But  God  Almighty  suffered 
me  to  be  thus  tried,  because  in  later  years,  taught  by  experience, 
I  liberated  many  who  were  buffeted  with  the  same  temptation." 
Indeed  the  1 3th  century,  which  from  our  modern  distance  seems 
at  first  sight  to  swim  in  one  haze  of  Fra  Angelico  blue,  shows  to 
the  telescope  its  full  share  of  barren  sand  and  pestilent  marsh. 
Sensitive  souls  struggled  then  too  for  their  faith,  with  an  agony 
that  was  often  bitterest  before  the  very  altar  and  in  the  presence 
of  what  should  have  been  to  them  the  bodily  flesh  and  blood  of 
the  Redeemer.  The  duties  to  temporal  and  spiritual  powers 
were  generallyin  hopeless  conflict :  or,  within  the  strictly  religious 
domain,  a  man  had  often  no  alternative  but  to  disobey  flatly 
either  his  Bishop  or  his  Pope.  His  parish  priest  might  well  be 
one  with  whom  no  honest  woman  dared  be  seen  to  whisper  ;  if 
he  wished  to  call  in  the  friars  instead,  that  right  was  frequently 
denied  him  ;  nor  could  he  be  certain  that  the  friar  himself  was 
such  as  we  expect  all  clergy  to  be  in  the  present  century.  He 
risked  worshipping  a  villain  as  a  saint,  and  saw  the  saints  them- 
selves often  receiving  less  hearty  recognition  than  in  these  days 
of  open  unorthodoxy. 

For  an  age  must  be  judged  not  only  by  the  few  remarkable  men 
it  produces,  but  still  more  by  the  attitude  of  the  rest  of  the  world 
towards  these  men.  It  is  of  course  far  easier  to  ticket  a  period 
with  just  a  dozen  names — for  even  a  great  age  produces  no  great 
number  of  first-rate  men — and  to  judge  it  accordingly.  But  we 
do  not  stop  at  the  fact  that  St.  Paul  and  the  other  apostles  were 
Jews  of  a  certain  generation  :  we  ask  further,  "  How  did  their 
own  generation  accept  their  persons  or  their  teaching  ?  "  Why 
then  should  we  be  asked  to  stop  at  the  fact  that  a  certain  century 
produced  Innocent  III  and  St.  Francis,  Dante  and  Aquinas  ? 
Innocent  was  believed  by  some  of  his  time  to  have  barely  escaped 
damnation,  and  was  often  criticized  with  the  greatest  freedom 
in  his  own  Church.  St.  Francis  and  his  early  missionaries  were 
treated  by  many  who  misunderstood  them  with  a  brutality  from 
which  modern  England  impartially  protects  expelled  monks  from 
France  and  Jews  from  Russia.  Florence  was  a  true  Nazareth  to 
Dante  ;  she  would  have  burned  him  alive  if  she  could  have  taken 
him  :  and  his  De  Monarchia  was  indeed  burned  as  heretical  by  the 
Papal  Legate  eight  years  after  his  death.  Aquinas's  family  tried 
to  prevent  his  becoming  a  Dominican  and  a  Saint  by  foul  and 


Faith.  3 1 5 

barbarous  means  scarcely  credible  to  us.  He  was  finally  poisoned 
(so  at  least  Dante  believed)  by  the  King  who  had  been  the  special 
creation  and  particular  champion  of  the  Church ;  and  within  a 
few  years  of  his  death  some  of  his  doctrines  were  solemnly  con- 
demned at  Paris  and  at  Oxford.  A  greater  intellect  than  Aquinas, 
Roger  Bacon,  was  all  but  quenched  in  prison,  and  it  is  only  by  a 
miracle  that  we  possess  his  writings.  There  was  widespread 
disbelief  in  the  Stigmata  of  St.  Francis  even  towards  the  end  of 
his  own  century.  Bernard  of  Quintavalle,  his  first  disciple,  was 
hunted  from  forest  to  forest  like  a  wild  beast  by  the  '  relaxed ' 
Franciscans  :  Caesarius  of  Spires,  another  of  his  truest  disciples, 
was  murdered  by  his  conventual  gaoler.  St.  Bonaventura  is 
one  of  the  most  heartily  abused  men  in  the  Fioretti.  The  great- 
est perhaps  of  the  Franciscan  Generals,  John  of  Parma,  narrowly 
escaped  imprisonment  for  life ;  while  Raymond  Gaufridi,  his 
only  successor  who  dared  to  take  the  side  of  the  Spirituals,  was 
poisoned.*  So  was  Henry  of  Luxemburg,  the  one  Emperor  of 
the  age  whom  Dante  thought  not  unworthy  of  the  throne ;  so 
also  was  Kilwardby,  one  of  the  most  efiicient  Archbishops  of 
Canterbury.  The  great  English  prelates  of  the  century  were 
indeed  peculiarly  unfortunate.  St.  Edmund  Rich  died  in  exile, 
equally  unable  to  tolerate  or  to  reform  that  Henry  III  who, 
of  all  our  English  kings,  was  most  after  the  Pope's  own  heart. 
St.  Richard  of  Chichester,  when  first  elected  Bishop,  was  ignomin- 
iously  rejected.  St.  Thomas  Cantilupe  was  excommunicated  by 
the  no  less  saintly  Peckham,  who  himself  was  on  such  bad  terms 
with  our  great  Edward  I,  that  he  retained  his  canonry  at  Lyons 
as  a  refuge  in  case  of  exile.  Grosseteste's  whole  life  was  one  long 
struggle  with  the  powers  of  evil  in  high  or  low  places  ;  and  he 
died  in  bitterness  of  heart.  Prominent  in  the  lives  of  13th  and 
14th  century  saints  are  the  persecutions  they  endured  at  home, 
and  the  continued  distrust  even  of  their  spiritual  advisers.  St. 
Louis,  who  was  a  great  king  as  well  as  a  real  saint,  could  not 
escape  even  in  his  own  chamber  from  the  lords  who  cursed  and 
called  him  nicknames  in  the  antechamber.'"^  It  is  far  safer  and 
more  comfortable  to  be  a  good  Roman  Catholic  in  modern  England 
than  it  was  in  Dante's  Italy.  Of  most  generations  it  may  be 
said  that  they  build  the  tombs  of  their  prophets  :  but  when  we 
are  inclined  to  doubt  of  our  own  age,  let  us  remember  that  few 
centuries  have  been  more  ungrateful  to  their  best  men  than  the 
Thirteenth. 

*  Accusations  of  poison  are  so  common  in  the  Middle  A^ea  that  one  can  never 
in  any  particular  case  assert  more  than  a  probable  suspicion :  but  the  extreme 
frequency  of  these  suspicions  is  in  itself  most  significant. 


Chapter  XXV. 
Believing  and  Trembling. 

THERE  is  one  side  of  Franciscan  life  which  comes  out  less 
clearly  in  Salimbene's  story  than  in  other  documents  :  for 
his  was  a  naturally  happy  disposition.  Many  men  and  women 
of  our  own  times  whose  backs  are  bowed  under  the  burden 
of  spiritual  self-reliance,  with  its  possible  contingencies  of  doubt 
and  mental  agony — to  whom  God  seems  too  distant  and  un- 
approachable without  constant  help  from  visible  mediators — 
many  such  are  attracted  to  a  Church  which  promises  an  end  of 
struggles  and  uncertainties.  This  promise  may  be  more  or  less 
true  in  the  case  of  modern  Komanism,  with  its  definite  limitations, 
its  mechanical  completeness  on  the  surface,  and  the  ever-watchful 
discipline  with  which  it  represses  attempts  to  pierce  below  the 
surface.  Under  the  present  free  competition,  a  religion  like  this 
tends  more  and  more  to  attract  a  certain  type  of  mind  in  proportion 
as  it  repels  other  types  :  so  that  the  Church  which  promises 
certainty  without  the  pain  of  enquiry  becomes  more  and  more 
the  Church  of  those  who  do  not  even  wish  to  enquire.  But  in 
the  13th  century  the  Church  included  all  minds,  except  that  small 
minority  which  was  ready  to  risk  the  loss  of  friends,  fortune,  and 
life  for  the  sake  of  an  unpopular  idea.  It  was  therefore  a  living 
and  growing  Church  in  a  sense  very  different  to  that  of  modern 
Komanism  : — a  Church  in  which  Dante  could  write  without 
misgiving  "In  religion,  God  cares  for  nought  of  us  but  the  heart." 
And  the  individual  soul,  like  the  Church  of  which  it  was  a  part, 
had  its  own  growing-pains,  far  more  nearly  resembling  those  of 
our  own  century  than  most  men  imagine.  Even  among  laymen, 
sensitive  minds  were  distracted  by  constant  conflicts  among 
their  spiritual  teachers.  Dante  had  no  doubt  (though  here  he 
was  probably  wrong)  that  Pope  Anastasius  was  a  heretic.  The 
heresy  of  Pope  Honorius  was  openly  proclaimed  in  the  Breviary 
itself.  St.  James  of  the  Mark,  as  we  have  seen,  could  only  con- 
gratulate himself  that  at  any  rate  no  two  consecutive  Pontiffs 
have  ever  been  heretical,  and  that  God  will  never  impute  the 


Believing  and  Trembling.  317 

guilt  of  such  papal  heresies  to  the  flocks  who  follow  them  in 
ignorance.  Men's  faith  was  perplexed  on  all  sides  by  visions  and 
miracles  often  proved  to  be  false;  and  the  friar  in  his  cell,  so 
far  from  escaping  these  spiritual  trials,  was  frequently  tortured 
tenfold :  the  early  legends  show  us  glimpses  of  a  veritable 
religious  Inferno.  The  greatest  saints  had  often  the  bitterest 
struggles  :  first  with  their  own  family  and  the  World  :  then  with 
religious  doubts  ;  then  with  unsympathetic  superiors  and 
companions  even  in  religion  ;  lastly  with  devils  on  their  death- 
bed. For  we  need  to  realise  that,  if  the  13th  century  looked  far 
oftener  than  ours  for  the  visible  and  tangible  presence  of  God, 
yet  it  also  realized  with  even  disproportionate  vividness  the 
omnipresence  of  the  Devil.  Flashes  of  blinding  spiritual  light 
alternated  with  a  horror  of  great  darkness.  Much  of  what  is 
most  harsh  and  repulsive  in  early  Protestantism  is  a  direct  legacy 
of  this  medieval  Satanology.  Many  of  the  best  minds  of  the 
Middle  Ages  suffered  Bunyan's  own  agonies  of  mind  on  the 
subject  of  Predestination.  The  Fioretti  tells  us  how  this  despair 
tortured  Ruffino,  one  of  the  Three  Companions,  in  the  very 
presence  of  St.  Francis.  Giles,  a  greater  name  still  in  the  annals 
of  the  Order,  was  so  bufieted  of  Satan  that  "he  was  wont  to  say 
with  a  sigh  as  he  returned  to  his  cell  in  the  evening, '  Now  I  await 
my  martyrdom.'"  It  was  the  penalty  of  the  constant  preponder- 
ance of  sentiment  over  reason  in  the  religion  of  the  time,  just  as 
numb  and  weary  doubts  are  the  nemesis  now  of  a  reason  which 
tyrannizes  over  sentiment.  The  early  friars  encouraged  even 
the  most  hysterical  manifestations.  The  gift  of  tears  in  prayer 
was  especially  coveted  ;  and  the  blessed  Umiliana,  lacking  these 
for  a  time,  nearly  blinded  herself  by  trying  to  recall  them 
artificially  with  quicklime.  Visions  and  ecstasies  were  infectious ; 
sensual  enjoyments  of  taste,  of  smell,  of  touch  were  eagerly 
sought  and  highly  prized  in  religion.  Words  of  prayer  would 
leave  a  literal  taste  of  honey  in  the  mouth  or  a  smell  of  incense 
in  the  nostrils :  again,  the  ecstasy  of  devotion  would  take 
more  violent  forms  which  seemed  perilous  even  to  the  en- 
thusiastic David  of  Augsburg,  and  are  altogether  horrible  to 
the  modern  mind,  whether  Catholic  or  Protestant.^  Indeed, 
the  crazy  conceits  and  vain  self-torturings  recorded  in  the  century 
from  St.  Francis  to  Dante  have  never  been  exceeded,  and  seldom 
equalled,  in  other  Christian  ages.  So  long  as  these  inventions 
were  not  too  antisacerdotal  or  too  contrary  to  the  then  popular 
currents  of  religious  thought,  there  was  no  extravagance  that 
did  not  find  its  admirers  and  its  imitators. 

Devils,  then,  were  everywhere  plain  to  the  eye  of  faith  in  the 


3i8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

most  ordinary  and  innocent  operations  of  nature.  To  St.  Edmund 
Rich,  they  rode  on  the  thunderstorm  and  filled  the  winter  twilight 
like  rooks  cawing  their  way  home  to  roost.  To  St.  Dominic, 
the  fiend  was  incarnate  in  a  wretched  sparrow  which  interrupted 
his  studies  and  which  he  therefore  plucked  alive,  exulting  in  its 
shrieks.  Thousands  of  devils  would  besiege  one  tiny  Franciscan 
hermitage :  friars  would  be  seen  brandishing  their  sticks  in  the 
air  and  driving  them  away  like  flies.  But  the  fear  of  the  visible 
devil  was  not  the  worst :  there  was  always  the  horrible  suspicion 
that  he  might  be  lurking  under  the  disguise  of  an  angel  of  light, 
of  the  Virgin  Mary,  of  our  Lord  Himself.  Long  hours  of  tender 
spiritual  talk,  of  rapturous  visions,  of  graces  begged  and  vouch- 
safed, of  ecstasies  faint  with  sweetness,  would  suddenly  reveal 
themselves  as  a  mere  film  of  bright  deceptions  concealing  the 
unspeakable  abominations  of  Hell.  Salimbene  gives  us  a  glimpse 
of  this,  though  his  stories  are  far  less  painful  than  others  which 
might  be  quoted.  He  tells  (569)  of  a  friar  to  whom  the  Devil 
came  habitually  in  the  form  of  Saints  Francis,  Anthony,  Clare, 
Agnes,  the  Virgin  Mary,  or  Christ  Himself.  These  visions 
promised  that  he  should  become  Pope  ;  and  he  was  delighted  to 
think  how  much  good  he  could  then  do.  He  refused,  however, 
to  follow  certain  "  devilish  and  unhonest "  suggestions  of  the 
Demon,  who  therefore  told  him  that  he  had  now  lost  the  papacy 
by  his  disobedience.  This  leads  Salimbene  to  tell  a  string  of 
similar  devilish  deceptions,  by  way  of  warning  readers  how 
difficult  it  was  to  distinguish  between  false  and  true  visions.  To 
another  Franciscan  the  Devil  appeared  in  our  Lord's  shape ;  a 
third  was  haunted  on  his  deathbed  by  a  demon  assuring  him 
that  he  was  damned,  and  that  his  daily  adoration  of  the  Host  at 
the  Mass  had  been  sheer  idolatry.'  Again,  Brother  Richard  of 
England  told  Salimbene  a  strange  incident  which  had  happened 
in  his  own  convent.  "  A  simple  and  upright  friar,  fearing  God 
and  avoiding  evil,"  dwelt  in  a  hermitage  near  Naples  :  and  the 
other  Brethren  esteemed  him  so  highly  that  they  made  no  scruple 
of  leaving  him  at  home  alone  when  they  went  abroad  on  business. 
The  Devil  therefore,  in  the  likeness  of  an  angel,  came  and  told 
him  "  thy  life  is  most  pleasing  in  God's  sight :  so  that  thou 
wouldst  be  altogether  like  unto  His  Son  (in  so  far  as  human 
frailty  permitteth)  if  thou  hadst  yet  one  thing,  for  lack  whereof 
thou  canst  not  be  saved."  The  one  thing  lacking  was,  that  he 
should  literally  crucify  himself  :  and  one  day  the  Brethren  found 
him  half-dead,  with  one  hand  and  both  feet  nailed  to  a  cross. 
Salimbene  does  not  tell  us  the  last  end  of  this  friar  :  in  the 
parallel   incident,  the  visionary  held  impeuitently  to  his  own 


Believing  and  Trembling.  319 

belief,  till  the  discussion  was  ended  by  the  Devil  carrying  him 
off.  We  might  be  tempted  to  dismiss  such  stories  with  a  laugh, 
but  for  their  significance  as  to  the  frequency  of  homicidal  and 
suicidal  delusions  in  the  cloister  ;  for  the  monastic  records  teem 
with  such  stories.  As  Salimbene  puts  it,  "  some  by  the  guile  of 
these  devils  are  persuaded  to  hang  themselves  ;  others  they  drive 
to  despair  ;  others  they  drown  in  the  waters  or  dash  to  pieces  from 
a  precipice ;  others  they  cast  into  the  fire,  whence  they  shall 
pass  to  where  their  worm  shall  not  die,  and  their  fire  shall  not  be 
quenched."^ 

Sometimes  indeed  the  tragedy  turns  to  comedy  :  for  instance, 
(571)  "  there  was  a  certain  Friar  Minor  of  Provence  who  had  eat- 
en a  partridge  for  his  supper,  and  who  then  went  to  sleep.  Where- 
fore that  night  in  his  sleep  the  Devil  came  and  smote  him  with  his 
fist,  so  that  the  Brother  awoke  in  fear,  and  fell  asleep  again. 
Then  came  the  Devil  and  smote  him  as  before ;  and  again  the 
Brother  fell  asleep.  Lo  then  a  third  time  the  Devil  came  and 
smote  him  mercilessly  with  his  fist,  so  that  the  Brother  awaked 
and  cried  in  fear,  '  Ah  God  I  must  I  be  slain  for  that  I  ate  a 
partridge  last  night  ?  '  To  whom  the  Devil  replied,  '  Ye  murmur, 
ye  are  ungrateful  and  discontented  ;  I  have  taken  from  you  the 
fruit  of  your  prayers.'  And  with  these  words  he  departed  from 
the  friar,  who  now  changed  his  life  for  the  better  :  for  perchance 
he  had  been  faulty  in  those  things  whereof  he  was  accused  by 
the  Devil.  Hence  we  read  that  the  blessed  Francis  said  to  his 
companion,  one  night  when  he  was  smitten  of  demons  at  the 
palace  of  a  certain  cardinal :  "  The  demons  are  our  Lord's  bailiffs, 
whom  He  hath  set  apart  to  exercise  men.  For  I  believe  that 
God  hath  suffered  His  bailiffs  to  fall  upon  us  because  our  sojourn 
at  the  court  of  great  folk  is  no  good  ensample  to  others.' "  There 
is  another  charming  story  of  a  devil  who  entered  into  a 
peasant  and  made  him  talk  Latin.  "But  he  tripped  in  his 
Latin,  whereat  our  Lector  mocked  him  for  his  faults  of  gram- 
mar. To  whom  the  demon  said,  '  I  myself  can  speak  Latin 
as  well  as  thou,  but  the  tongue  of  this  boor  is  so  gross  and 
unhandy  of  speech,  that  for  very  uncouthness  I  can  scarce  wield 
it,' "  Our  chronicler  presently  goes  on  to  relate  another  long 
and  amusing,  but  very  rambling,  story  about  a  demoniac  peasant 
who  also  talked  Latin  :  Miss  Macdonell,  who  has  evidently 
somehow  misunderstood  it,  goes  out  of  her  way  to  found  upon  it 
a  very  imjust  accusation  of  unfriendliness  against  Salimbene 
himself.* 

But  it  was  not  always  the  Devil  who  got  the  best  of  these 
discussions.     A  friar  of  the  Mark  Tapley  type,  who  was  crying 


320  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

aloud  the  praises  of  God  at  a  time  when  such  utterances  were 
discouraged  as  undignified  by  monastic  moralists,  "  was  rebuked 
by  the  Devil,  who  said  that  this  place  was  neither  fitting  nor 
honest  for  the  praise  of  God.  To  whom  the  friar  answered  and 
said,  *  I  am  so  wont  to  praise  God  that  1  cannot  cease  therefrom  ; 
for  I  have  learned  in  the  Scriptures  that  He  is  everywhere,  and 
should  therefore  everywhere  be  praised  by  His  own,  even  as  the 
Apostle  saith  "  I  will  therefore  that  men  pray  in  every  place," 
wherefore  even  in  this  base  place  will  I  praise  God  with  my 
mouth.  For  God  abhorreth  no  uncleanness  but  the  uncleanness 
of  iniquity.  But  thou,  wretch,  who  wert  created  to  praise  God  in 
heaven,  hast  now  lost  it  by  thy  pride.  Prithee  tell  me  now,  wert 
thou  of  those  who  prayed  the  Lord  to  send  them  into  the  herd  of 
swine  ?  '  To  whom  the  demon  said,  '  Why  askest  thou  this  ? ' 
*  Because,'  said  the  friar,  '  like  cleaveth  to  like.  Thou  art  a  swine, 
unclean  by  nature  and  by  name ;  thou  lovest  uncleanness  and 
seekest  uncleanness  ;  for  thou  wert  created  to  dwell  in  heaven,  and 
now  thou  goest  from  dunghill  to  dunghill,  and  spiest  out  the  cess- 
pools.' At  which  words  the  devil  was  ashamed,  and  departed  from 
him  in  confusion.  For  all  demons  are  utterly  confounded  and 
put  to  shame  by  whatsoever  recalleth  their  lost  glory  and  the 
present  misery  which  they  have  brought  upon  themselves." 

Another  friar,  a  friend  of  Salimbene's,  who  "  made  300  genuflec- 
tions every  night,  and  fasted  daily  his  whole  life  long,"  put  a 
devil  to  the  blush  by  ridiculing  the  contrast  between  his  former 
high  place  in  heaven  and  his  present  lurking-place  in  the  body  of 
a  miserable  harlot.  (570)  Nor  did  this  discomfited  demon  mend 
matters  by  attempting  a  diversion.  "  He  paused  and  listened  to 
a  certain  young  friar  who  went  singing  through  the  convent  :  then 
said  he  to  the  Brethren  who  stood  by,  '  Hear  ye  that  friar  who 
sings  as  he  goes  through  the  house  ?  He  is  wholly  mine.'  So 
when  that  friar  had  come  to  the  place  where  the  demoniac  was, 
the  Brethren  said  unto  him,  '  This  demon  saith  thou  art  wholly 
his.'  Then  was  the  Brother  ashamed,  being  conscious  within 
himself  of  certain  faults  :  and,  turning  aside  from  him,  he  found 
a  priest,  to  whom  he  confessed  those  sins  whereof  he  had  greatest 
remorse  of  conscience.  Then  he  returned  and  said  again  to  the 
demon,  '  Tell  me,  wretch,  what  have  I  done  that  I  should  be 
wholly  thine  ?  '  To  whom  the  demon  answered,  '  A  little  while 
ago  I  knew  well ;  but  now  1  have  forgotten.  Yet  know  thou 
beforehand,  that  I  have  bound  such  a  chain  to  thy  feet  as,  before 
forty  days  are  past,  shall  draw  thee  out  from  this  Order,  and 
thou  shalt  go  thy  way  and  return  to  thy  vomit.'  And  it  came 
to  pass  as  the  Devil  had  said.     See  now  the  virtue  of  confession, 


Believing  and  Trembling.  321 

whereby  sins  are  hidden ;  for  at  first  the  Devil  knew,  yet  after 
Confession  he  could  know  nothing."  This  anecdote  is  a  very 
mild  specimen  of  a  type  which  even  highly  accredited  medieval 
moralists  frequently  repeat  with  great  gusto.  The  point  is  that 
confession  not  only  annuls  the  guilt  of  sin  before  God,  but  also 
justifies  the  criminal  in  denying  it  altogether  to  his  fellow-men : 
as  we  are  told  that,  even  in  modern  Ireland,  a  priest  who  has 
confessed  and  absolved  a  penitent  of  political  murder  will  speak 
of  him  henceforth  in  public  as  "  the  innocent  man."^ 

On  the  other  hand,  this  casting  out  of  demons  had  its  dangerous 
side.  (572)  "  A  certain  clerk  named  Guglielmo,  who  dwelt  in 
Parma,  was  a  comely  man,  strong  and  of  great  stature,  evil-mind- 
ed, and  a  conjuror  of  demons.  So  one  day  when  the  wife  of  one 
Ghidino,  a  blacksmith,  was  possessed  by  a  demon,  this  aforesaid 
clerk  came  and  began  to  conjure  the  demon  to  depart  from  her. 
To  whom  the  demon  said,  '  I  will  indeed  depart  from  her,  but  for 
thee  I  will  weave  such  a  web  that  thou  shalt  nevermore  molest 
me  nor  drive  me  forth  from  my  abodes ;  for  know  well  that  I 
will  shortly  cause  thee  to  be  slain,  and  thou  shalt  slay  another.' 
And  it  came  to  pass  even  as  he  had  said  ;  for  a  few  months 
afterwards,  in  that  same  city  of  Parma,  the  clerk  fell  out  in  a 
certain  courtyard  with  Ardoino  da  Chiavari,  and  they  so  rushed 
upon  each  other  that,  the  strong  stumbling  against  the  strong, 
both  fell  together.  Our  chronicler  presently  goes  on  to  enumer- 
ate "the  eight  perils  whereof  the  Apostle  speaketh  "  (2  Cor.  viii, 
11,  26),  and  adds  "as  Brother  Bouaventura  the  Minister-general 
said,  in  his  sermons  to  the  Brethren  at  Bologna  whereat  I  was 
always  present,  '  to  consent  to  the  temptations  and  suggestions  of 
demons  is  as  though  a  man  should  throw  himself  from  the  summit 
of  a  most  lofty  tower,  and,  when  he  is  fallen  half-way,  should 
seek  to  catch  some  pole  or  stake  to  arrest  his  fall.'  " 

These  abbreviated  quotations  give  but  a  faint  idea  of  the 
place  held  by  the  Devil  in  even  a  well-balanced  imagination  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  Difficulties  and  temptations  change  their 
forms  as  time  goes  on  :  yet  then,  as  now,  Christ  brought  to  many 
souls  not  peace  but  a  sword.  In  spite  of  the  elaborate  organiza- 
tion of  the  hierarchy  and  the  theory  of  the  sacraments,  every 
man  had  still  to  work  his  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  : 
and  desperate  pangs  of  conscience  were  a  sign  not  of  reprobation 
but  of  grace. 

Moreover,  as  a  vigorous  soul  is  never  without  its  struggles,  so 
a  vigorous  Church  has  always  its  sects.  Those  who  are  curious 
to  learn  how  Italy  was  distracted  during  this  period  should  con- 
sult Dr.  Lea's  great  History  of  the  Inquisition.     I  have  no  room 


322  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

here  but  for  those  religious  aberrations  which  came  under 
Salimbene's  own  eyes.  These  all  throw — unjust  as  it  would  be 
to  press  the  comparison  too  closely — very  interesting  side-lights 
on  the  beginnings  of  the  Franciscans  themselves. 

One  sect  originated  indirectly  with  Salimbene's  dear  friend 
and  master,  Hugues  de  Digne.  (254)  Two  laymen,  touched  by 
his  preaching,  came  and  begged  admission  to  the  Order  :  but  he 
refused  and  put  them  off  with  Joachitic  parables  which  they 
very  naturally  misunderstood.  "  Go  into  the  woods,"  said  Hugh, 
"  and  learn  to  eat  roots,  for  the  Tribulations  are  at  hand."  They 
took  him  literally,  and  formed  an  order  of  wild  hermits  whom  the 
Franciscans  called  derisively  Bushmen  {BoscarioU)^  but  who 
called  themselves  Friars  of  the  Sack.  "  They  made  themselves 
striped  garments  of  black  and  white  ....  then  in  process  of 
time  they  made  themselves  a  frock  of  sackcloth — not  sackcloth 
of  hair  [as  in  the  Apocalypse]  but  almost  of  fine  linen  :  and  be- 
neath this  they  had  excellent  tunics,  and  at  their  neck  a  mantle 
of  sackcloth,  whence  they  are  called  Friars  of  the  Sack.  And 
they  caused  sandals  to  be  made  for  them,  such  as  the  Friars 
Minor  have  :  for  all  who  wish  to  make  some  new  Rule  always 
beg  somewhat  from  our  Order — either  our  sandals  or  our  cord  or 
even  our  frock.  But  now  we  have  a  papal  privilege  that  no  man 
shall  wear  such  a  habit  as  might  cause  him  to  be  taken  for  a 
Friar  Minor :  for  the  so-called  Britti  Friars  of  the  Mark  of 
Ancona  were  wont  to  wear  just  such  an  habit :  but  Pope  Alex- 
ander IV  brought  them  into  one  congregation  with  the  Austin 
Friars."  Meanwhile  these  friars  waxed  in  numbers  and  became 
indefatigable  beggars,  to  the  disgust  of  the  older  Mendicants. 
"  One  day  the  Lady  Griuletta  degli  Adhelardi,  a  devotee  of  ours, 
seeing  these  Friars  of  the  Sack  begging  their  bread  from  door  to 
door  in  Modena,  said  to  the  Franciscans,  '  I  tell  you  truly, 
Brethren,  we  had  already  so  many  bags  and  wallets  to  empty  our 
granaries,  that  this  Order  of  the  Sack  was  not  needed.'  "  Salim- 
bene,  therefore,  is  convinced  that  Gregory  X  was  divinely 
inspired  in  abolishing  the  Order,  as  tending  "to  weary  and 
burden  Christian  folk  with  the  multitude  of  beggars."  He 
goes  on  to  explain  how  the  Austin  Friars  were  organized  by 
Alexander  IV,  who  compelled  half-a-dozen  sects  of  begging 
Hermits  to  coalesce  into  that  single  Order.  Among  these  were 
the  Giambonitani,  "  founded  by  one  Giovanni  Bono,  who  lived 
in  the  days  of  St.  Francis ;  his  body  was  buried  in  my  days  at 
Mantua,  and  his  son  I  have  seen  and  known,  Brother  Matthew 
of  Modena,  a  fat  man."  Yet  he  remarks  complacently  that 
these  Austin  Friars  existed  even  now  only  on  sufferance,  and  in 


Believing  and  Trembling.  323 

daily  peril  of  disruption.  An  Austin  Friar  might  possibly  have 
retorted  the  criticism  on  the  Franciscan  Third  Order,  which  was 
already  getting  so  seriously  out  of  hand  that  St.  Bonaventura 
seemed  to  look  upon  it  as  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help.' 

The  strangest  story  of  all,  however,  is  told  on  p.  255  ff.,  with 
even  more  than  Salimbene's  usual  superfluity  of  repetitions  and 
abusive  epithets.  In  or  about  1260 — the  year  foretold  for 
Joachim's  Reign  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  actually  marked  by  the 
rise  of  the  Flagellants — a  new  Order  arose.  It  grew  up,  as  usual, 
among  the  common  people.  Salimbene  was  living  in  the  convent 
of  his  native  Parma,  when  one  Gerardino  Segarello  applied  for 
admission  and  was  refused,  being  "  of  vile  parentage,  illiterate 
and  a  layman,  unlearned  and  foolish."'  Nothing  daunted,  he 
lingered  in  their  churches,  studying  how  to  found  a  religion  of 
his  own.  This  was  of  course  contrary  to  the  definite  decree  of 
the  Lateran  Council  (1215)  :  but  we  have  seen  already  how  little 
the  decrees  of  that  great  Council  were  regarded.  Segarello  hit  at 
last  upon  the  idea  of  imitating  our  Lord's  outward  actions  even 
more  literally,  and  with  even  more  scenic  effect,  than  the  Fran- 
ciscans. His  first  suggestion  came  from  a  lamp-cover  in  their 
church,  embossed  with  figures  of  the  Apostles  "  wearing  sandals 
on  their  feet,  and  mantles  wrapped  round  their  shoulders,  accord- 
ing to  the  ancient  traditions  among  painters."  He  conformed 
himself  carefully  to  this  model,  letting  his  hair  and  beard  grow, 
making  a  mantle  of  coarse  woollen  stuflF  which  he  threw  over  his 
shoulders,  and  "  taking  the  Franciscan  sandals  and  cord  :  for 
whosoever  would  make  a  new  congregation  must  needs  steal  from 
our  Order."  Then,  selling  his  house,  he  took  the  money  and  cast 
it  "  not  to  the  poor,  but  to  the  rabble  at  play  in  the  piazza,  who 
departed  to  continue  their  dicing,  and  blasphemed  the  living  God 
in  the  giver's  very  ears.  He  thought  to  fulfil  Christ's  counsel : 
yet  Christ  said  not  '  Give  to  the  rabble  '  but  '  Give  to  the  poor  : ' 
give  to  those  who  praise  God,  and  not  to  those  who  blaspheme 
Him  and  the  virgin  mother  of  Christ,  who  made  the  Son  of  God 
our  brother.  Again,  wishing  to  make  himself  like  to  the  Son  of 
God,  he  caused  himself  to  be  circumcised,  which  is  contrary  to 
the  words  of  the  Apostle,  (Gal.  vi.  15).  Moreover,  he  lay  in  a 
cradle  wrapped  in  swaddling-clothes,  and  sucked  milk  from 
the  breast  of  a  certain  ignorant  woman.  After  that  he  went 
to  a  certain  village  called  Collechio ;  and  standing  in  the 
midst  of  the   road,  in  his  simple  folly  he  cried  aloud  to  the 

Eassers-by   *  Go   ye   into  my    V  ineyard.'     Such   as   knew  him 
eld  him  for  a  madman,  knowing  that  he  had  there  no  vine- 
yard :  but  the  hill-folk,  who  knew  him  not,  entered  the  vine- 


324  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

yard  that  lay  towards  his  outstretched  hand,  and  ate  other 
men's  grapes,  thinking  themselves  bidden  thereto  by  the  proper 
lord.  Moreover  he  spake  to  none  and  saluted  none,  thmkmg 
thereby  to  fulfil  that  word  of  Christ's  '  Salute  no  man  by  the 
way.'  And  often  would  he  say  the  Lord's  word  *  Penitenz- 
affttCy  (for  he  was  too  rude  and  unlearned  to  say  '  Poenitentiam 
agite  :  '*)  and  thus  in  process  of  time  said  his  followers  for  many 
years,  being  rustics  and  uolearned  men.  If  ever  he  were  bidden 
to  dine  or  to  sup  or  to  lodge,  he  ever  answered  in  doubtful  phrase, 
saying  *1  will  come  or  I  will  not  come  : '  which  was  against  that 
word  of  the  Lord  '  Let  your  speech  be  Yea,  yea,  No,  no.'  So 
when  he  came  to  the  house  of  the  Brethren  Minor,  and  asked 
whether  this  Brother  or  that  were  in  the  house,  the  porter  would 
answer  him  scoffingly  and  derisively,  saying  '  Either  he  is  in  the 
house,  or  he  is  not.^  This  is  as  grammarians  teach  us,  '  In  what- 
ever case  the  question  is  asked,  in  that  same  the  answer  should 
be  made.'"  Salimbene  further  accuses  him  of  practising  an 
ordeal  not  infrequent  among  ignorant  enthusiasts  in  the  earlier 
days  of  Christianity,  but  already  repugnant  to  the  moral  sense  of 
the  13th  century. 

(jrerardino  soon  had  about  thirty  followers.  He  called  his 
Order  the  Apostles  :  Salimbene  can  never  bring  himself  to  write 
the  name  without  some  scornful  addition  ;  often  he  parodies  the 
Apocalypse  :  "  They  who  say  that  they  are  Apostles  and  are 
not,  but  are  the  synagogue  of  Satan — a  congregation  of  fools 
and  lewd  folk,  and  forerunners  of  the  disciples  of  Antichrist." 
The  first  proselyte  had  been  "  a  certain  servant  of  the  Friars 
Minor  of  Parma,  Robert  by  name,  who  was  a  disobedient  and 
wayward  youth,  of  whom  the  Wise  Man  writeth  in  Prov.  xxix, 
19,  21  :  wnereof  a  certain  tyrant  said  well  '  the  race  of  menials 
cannot  be  corrected  but  by  torture.'  Gerardino  persuaded  this 
servant  to  leave  us  and  cleave  to  him  :  and  this  was  to  our  great 
profit,  for  we  got  an  excellent  servant  in  his  place,  as  it  is  written  in 
Esaias  '  instead  of  the  shrub  shall  come  up  the  fir-tree,  and  instead 
of  the  nettle  shall  come  up  the  myrtle-tree.'  "  He  was  "  like 
unto  Judas  Iscariot,"  not  only  because  "  he  took  away  with  him 
the  Brethren's  knife  and  cup  and  napkin,  as  though  they  had  been 
his  own,"  but  also  because  he  bare  the  bag  of  these  false  Apostles, 
to  his  own  private  profit.  For,  sad  to  say,  "men  and  women 
gave  to  them  more  willingly  than  to  us  and  the  Dominicans." 
Yet  this  new  Order  could  neither  pray  for  men,  nor  preach,  nor 
sing  masses  or  other  offices  :  they  were  merely  "  a  congregation 

*  A.V.  "  Repent !  "  Douay  version  '•  Do  penance  ! " 


Believing  and  Trembling.  325 

of  rascals  and  swineherds  and  false  and  lewd  folk  ;  of  fools  and 
of  beastly  ribalds, — ignorant  as  brute  beasts — boorish  and  beastly 
men,"  who,  like  the  Gibeonites,  had  crept  in  under  false  pretences 
among  the  Lord's  chosen  people,  and  deserved  to  be  made  mere 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water — nay  "quibus  magis 
incomberet  purgare  latrinos  aut  alia  vilia  opera  exercere.^^ 

They  were  indeed  mere  religious  tramps,  spending  their  days 
in  idle  gossip,  and  coming  back  to  their  common  doss-house  only 
to  eat  and  sleep.  Salimbene  complains  bitterly  that  they  actually 
carried  money  about  with  them : — for  the  Franciscan,  though 
ready  to  accept  any  sum  whatever  through  a  third  person,  still 
carefully  abstained  from  touching  it  with  his  own  fingers,  for 
Lady  Poverty's  sake.^  He  is  also  shocked  at  their  going  about 
singly,  unlike  other  Religious,  who  were  bound  to  go  about  two 
and  two  for  the  avoidance  of  scandal.  Moreover,  they  talked 
and  went  about  freely  with  women — as  indeed  St.  Francis  and 
the  very  earliest  Brethren  had  done  with  St.  Clare  and  her  sisters. 
But  "  the  malice  of  the  times "  had  long  rendered  such  ideal 
relations  impossible  to  the  Friars  ;  and  Salimbene  is  all  the  more 
angry  at  the  licence  of  the  Apostles  :  "  they  run  about  the  city 
all  day  beholding  women."  Worse  still,  "they  are  not  in  a 
state  of  salvation,  since  some  of  them  keep  not  the  rule  of 
chastity  to  which  all  religious  Orders  are  boimd  :  .  .  .  .  more- 
over, trusting  to  St.  Paul's  words  (1  Cor.  ix,  5),  these,  who 
believe  themselves  to  be  Apostles,  led  about  with  them  the  lady 
Tripia,  sister  to  Brother  Guido  Putagio,  who  was  many  years 
their  head :  and  likewise  many  other  women  also,  who  were  an 
occasion  of  ruin  to  them.  So  that,  in  literal  truth,  ribalds  and 
seducers  enter  in  among  these  Apostles ;  and  deceivers  and 
robbers  and  fornicators,  committing  much  foUy  with  women  and 
also  with  boys,  and  returning  afterwards  to  their  ribaldry." 
On  another  point  also  the  Apostles  pushed  Franciscan  ideas  to  a 
dangerous  extreme.  "They  would  fain  be  content  with  one 
single  tunic,  believing  this  to  be  commanded  them  of  God. 
Yet  therein  they  err ;  for  when  the  Lord  said,  '  nor  two  coats,' 
He  did  not  understand  these  words  literally,  to  forbid  more 
than  one  to  such  as  might  be  in  need,  both  for  the  washing 
away  of  dirt,  and  for  avoiding  harm  from  cold.  It  is  plain 
therefore  that  the  Apostles  of  Gerardino  Segarello  are  most 
foolish  to  be  contented  with  a  single  tunic.  Moreover,  they 
expose  themselves  to  danger  of  cold  and  of  grievous  illness,  or 
even  of  death  :  or  again  to  much  wretchedness,  both  of  vermin, 
which  they  cannot  shake  off,  and  also  of  sweat  and  dust  and 
filth.     For  they  can  neither  shake  nor  wash  their  tunic,  unless 


326  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

they  would  be  naked  meanwhile.  Whence  one  day  a  certain 
woman  said  scoffingly  to  two  Friars  Minor  'Know  that  an  Apostle 
lieth  in  my  bed  at  home,  where  he  will  remain  until  his  tunic  is 
dry,  which  I  have  washed.'  The  Brethren  Minor,  hearing  this, 
began  to  laugh  at  the  woman's  folly,  and  that  of  the  unwise 
Apostle."  Nothing  is  apt  to  be  more  irritating  than  the 
exaggerated  imitation  of  our  own  mannerisms :  and  though  it 
was  counted  saintly  in  one  Franciscan  that  he  wore  the  same 
garment  for  thirty  years,  the  same  feat  seemed  merely  sordid  in 
an  "  Apostle."  It  is  interesting,  again,  that  our  chronicler  should 
apply  to  these  Apostles  the  very  text  which  was  oftenest  quoted 
against  the  Friars  themselves  by  their  adversaries  :  "  they  who 
creep  into  houses,  and  lead  captive  silly  women  loaden  with  sins, 
who  are  led  away  with  divers  desires  :  ever  learning,  and  never 
attaining  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth." 

Salimbene  is  specially  disgusted  at  these  men's  ignorance  : 
"  These  fellows,  who  say  that  they  are  Apostles  and  are  not,  have 
neither  book-learning  nor  mother-wit ;  and  when  they  would  fain 
preach  without  scriptures  they  busy  themselves  with  goat's  wool 
and  the  fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon,'  for  they  speak  buffooneries  and 
sow  heresies  abroad,  '  understanding  neither  the  things  they  say, 
nor  whereof  they  affirm.'  Of  whom  one  may  say  with  the 
prophet  Micah  :  '  thou  shalt  sow,  but  shalt  not  reap ;  thou  shalt 
tread  the  olives  but  not  be  anointed  with  the  oil ;  and  the  new 
wine,  but  shalt  not  drink  the  wine : '  which  is  to  say  that  these 
ribalds  of  Brother  Gerardino  Segarello,  who  call  themselves 
Apostles,  shall  have  no  reward  of  their  preaching,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  say  :  nay,  in  the  words  of  the  Scripture  '  they  shall 
sow  wind,  and  reap  a  whirlwind.' "  The  reference  here  to  Salim- 
bene's  own  aureole  laid  up  for  him  in  heaven  is  unmistakable  :  and 
he  goes  on  to  reckon  up  with  pardonable  complacency  his  own 
opportunities  of  learning,  and  the  use  he  has  made  of  them. 
"  Forty  and  six  years  have  1  studied  unceasingly  :  and  even  yet 
I  have  not  attained  to  the  wisdom  of  my  forefathers.  But  these 
so-called  Apostles  are  mere  rustics,  who  ought  rather  to  take  the 
hoe  and  labour  the  earth,  which  crieth  far  and  wide  for  tillage. 
In  their  congregation  such  men  preached  as,  in  our  Order  would 
scarce  be  suffered  to  wait  at  our  tables,  or  wash  our  dishes,  or 
go  from  door  to  door  for  bread."  Of  this  he  gives  two  very 
amusing  instances.  "  A  certain  Friar  Minor,  who  had  a  nephew 
not  yet  15  years  old,  was  causing  him  to  be  taught,  that  he  might 
enter  later  on  into  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor.  This  nephew 
would  write  out  sermons  for  the  Friar  his  uncle,  whereof  he 
learnt  four  or  five  by  heart :  and  since  we  received  him  not  so 


Believing  and  Trembling.  327 

quickly  as  he  wished,  he  caused  himself  to  be  taken  into  the 
Congregation — nay,  rather,  into  the  Dispersion — of  those  who 
say  they  are  Apostles  and  are  not ;  and  these  also  let  him  preach 
in  Cathedral  churches  those  sermons  which  he  had  learnt.  Many 
of  these  fellows  would  command  silence;  and  then  would  the 
boy  speak  to  the  assembled  people.  So  one  day  when  Brother 
Bonaventura  da  Iseo*  was  preaching  at  Ferrara  in  the  church  of 
the  Friars  Minor,  he  saw  some  of  his  hearers  rise  suddenly  and 
run  hastily  forth.  And  he  marvelled  greatly ;  for  he  was  a 
famous  and  gracious  preacher,  whom  men  were  wont  to  hear 
gladly,  so  that  none  would  withdraw  from  his  preaching  until  it 
was  ended.  So  he  asked  why  they  had  left  the  church  in  such 
haste,  and  the  congregation  told  him  *  A  little  boy  of  these 
Apostles  is  ready  to  preach  in  the  Cathedral  church,  where  the 
people  is  gathered  together ;  wherefore  all  are  in  haste  to  run 
and  get  themselves  places.'  To  whom  Brother  Bonaventura 
answered  '  I  see  that  your  heart  is  busied  and  troubled  with  other 
things  ;  wherefore  1  will  dismiss  you  forthwith,  for  I  should 
labour  in  vain  if  I  preached  longer.  In  truth  we  need  not  that 
Antichrist  should  come  with  his  forerunners  j  for  he  would  find 
many  followers  among  Christian  folk.  Go  therefore  to  your 
child  whom  ye  desire  to  hear,  and  let  him  confess  you  of  your 
sins ;  for  to-day  is  that  day  wherein  the  Lord's  words  shall 
be  fulfilled,  saying  "Behold,  the  hour  cometh,  and  it  is  now 
come,  that  ye  shall  be  scattered  each  one  to  his  own,  and  shall 
leave  Me  alone  :  and  yet  I  am  not  alone,  because  the  Father  is 
with  Me." '  Therewith  he  dismissed  them  ;  and  all  made  such 
a  haste  to  depart  that  none  waited  for  the  other.  Another 
time,  when  I  dwelt  at  Ravenna,  those  Apostles  caused  the 
aforesaid  boy  to  preach  in  the  archiepiscopal  cathedral  of 
the  city  of  Kavenna  ;  and  in  so  great  haste  did  folk  of  both 
sexes  run  together  that  scarce  would  one  await  the  other. 
Wherefore  a  certain  great  and  noble  lady  of  that  land,  who 
was  a  devotee  of  the  Friars  Minor, — the  Lady  Giullietta,  wife 
of  the  Lord  Guido,  Son  of  Rizola  da  Polenta, — complained  to 
the  Brethren  that  she  could  scarce  find  a  friend  to  go  with  her. 
And  the  Cathedral  was  already  so  full  when  she  came  thither  that 
she  was  fain  to  stand  without  by  the  door ;  yet  that  Cathedral 
church  is  so  great  that  it  has  four  aisles,  beside  the  great  nave, 
which  contains  half  the  space.  Moreover,  those  fellows  who  call 
themselves  Apostles  were  wont  to  lead  round  this  boy  of  theirs 
from  city  to  city,  and  made  him  preach  in  Cathedral  churches ; 

*  Not  the  Saint,  but  a  contemporary  of  tome  note  in  the  Order. 


328  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

and  folk  flocked  thick  together,  and  there  was  a  vast  congregation, 
and  much  gaping  both  of  men  and  of  women ;  for  the  men  of 
our  days  delight  in  new  things.^"  Wherefore  it  is  strange  that 
the  Church  should  suffer  boys  to  elect  one  of  their  fellows  to  sit  in 
the  Bishop's  seat  on  the  Feast  of  the  Innocents.""  Salimbene 
heads  the  whole  of  this  paragraph  "  Of  the  folly  of  Christian 
folk."  In  short,  he  could  see  only  two  good  points  in  these 
Apostles  ;  first,  the  picturesqueness  of  their  dress,  which  he 
admits  not  without  a  little  natural  envy  ;  and  secondly  that  they 
did  really  begin  in  or  about  the  year  1260,  the  Great  Year  of 
Joachism.  But  this  latter  advantage  was  neutralized  by  the 
fact  that  there  was  no  word  of  them  in  Joachim's  prophecies, 
(or  rather  in  the  pseudo-Joachim,)  which,  as  all  the  world 
knew,  had  foretold  exactly  the  coming  of  the  Franciscans  and 
Dominicans. 

All  this,  however,  did  not  hinder  the  Apostles  from  growing 
rapidly.  Among  the  ignorant  folk  Segarello's  pious  folly  passed 
for  a  good  imitation  of  the  Friars'  life.  Nor  was  it  popular 
among  the  ignorant  only :  for  the  Apostles  had  at  least  three 
powerful  patrons  in  the  Church — the  Bishop  Obizzo,  the  Notary 
Apostolic  Albert  of  Parma,  and  the  Abbot  of  the  great  Cister- 
cian monastery  of  Fontanaviva.  It  was  this  latter  who  advised 
them  not  to  build  convents,  but  to  tramp  the  country  and  live 
on  alms.  Segarello  soon  found  himself  an  object  of  fervent 
worship,  and  his  house  a  resort  of  pilgrims  from  all  quarters. 
The  devotees  would  "flock  around  him  in  a  certain  house, 
never  opening  their  mouths  but  to  cry  with  a  loud  voice  a 
hundred  times  or  more,  '  Pater^  Pater ^  Pater  !  '  Then  after  a 
brief  space  they  would  begin  again,  and  chant  *  Pater^  Pater^ 
Pater  ! '  after  the  wont  of  boys  in  grammar-schools,  when  they 
repeat  in  chorus  at  intervals  the  words  which  have  been  spoken 
by  their  master.  But  he  honoured  them  in  return  by  stripping 
himself  and  them  so  stark  naked  as  to  uncover  their  shame ; 
and  they  stood  round  in  array  leaning  against  the  wall ;  yet  in 
no  orderly  or  honest  or  good  array.  For  he  would  fain  strip  them 
of  all  their  worldly  goods,  that,  naked,  they  might  henceforth 
follow  the  naked  Christ.  For  each  of  them  at  the  master's 
bidding  had  bound  up  his  garments  and  laid  them  in  the 
midst  of  that  building.  Then,  at  the  master's  bidding,  as  they 
stood  in  this  unhonest  guise,  was  brought  in  (as  Origen  saith) 
'  woman,  the  fountain-head  of  sin,  the  devil's  weapon,  expulsion 
from  paradise,  mother  of  guilt,  corruption  of  the  old  law.'  To 
her  Gerardino  commanded  that  she  should  give  back  the  clothes 
as  she  pleased  to  these  poor  folk  thus  stripped  and  denuded  of 


Believing  and  Trembling.  329 

their  worldly  goods  :  and  they,  when  they  were  clothed  again, 
cried  out  as  before,  '  Pater,  Pater,  Pater  /  '  Such  then  was  the 
reward  and  guerdon  they  had  for  this  honour  done  to  their 
master,  that  he  played  the  fool  in  their  presence  and  made  them 
to  play  the  fool :  therefore  the  Wise  Man  saith  in  Proverbs  *  as 
he  that  casteth  stone  into  the  heap  of  mercury,  so  is  he  that 
giveth  honour  to  a  fool.'  After  this  he  sent  them  to  show 
themselves  to  the  world  :  so  some  went  to  the  court  of  Rome, 
others  to  Compostella,  others  to  St.  Michael's  mount,^'  and 
others  even  to  the  Holy  Laud."  Salimbene  saw  such  a  troop 
in  1284,  when  "seventy-two  of  those  who  call  themselves 
Apostles  but  are  not,  came  by  the  high  road  through  Modena 
and  Reggio,  old  men  and  children  together,  on  their  way 
to  Parma  to  see  their  founder  Segarello,  that  they  might 
give  all  their  goods  into  his  hand  and  receive  his  blessing, 
and  wander  by  his  leave  through  the  world.  So  he  brought  them 
into  a  certain  church  in  Parma  ;  and,  stripping  them  all  naked, 
he  reclothed  them  and  received  them  into  his  Order  and  blessed 
them,  and  then  sent  them  to  go  whithersoever  they  would.  Yet 
Pope  Gregory  X  in  full  Council  at  Lyons  [a.d.  1274]  had  for- 
bidden their  further  multiplication ;  but  they  cease  not  on  that 
account  to  take  the  habit  of  that  Religion,  and  to  wander  in  their 
folly  throughout  the  world,  neither  fearing  God  nor  honouring 
man,  (that  is,  the  Supreme  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ :)  and  yet  they 
dream  that  they  are  in  a  state  of  salvation,  though  they  obey  not 
the  Church  of  Rome  !  Moreover,  in  that  same  year,  a  few  days 
later,  there  came  along  the  same  highway  twelve  girls,  with  mantles 
wrapped  round  their  shoulders,  calling  themselves  the  Sisters 
of  the  aforesaid  Apostles,  and  seeking  Brother  Gerardino 
on  the  same  errand.  These  men,  who  call  themselves  Apostles 
and  are  not — nay  rather,  they  are  ribalds,  boorish  and  beastly 
men,  leading  with  them  women  of  this  kind — yet  they  believed 
themselves  to  be  doing  what  the  Apostle  saith  '  Have  we  not  power 
to  carry  about  a  woman,  a  sister,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  Apostles, 
and  the  brethren  of  the  Lord,  and  Cephas  ?  ' "  The  indignation 
which  plays  such  havoc  with  Salimbene's  grammar  was  felt  in 
other  quarters  also.  In  1287,  the  Council  of  Wiirzburg  stigmatized 
the  Apostles  as  disorderly  tramps,  and  forbade  the  faithful  to 
support  them.  Meanwhile  Segarello  himself  "remained  at 
Parma,  where  he  was  bom,  and  wrought  much  folly  ;  for  he 
cast  off  his  mantle  wherein  he  had  been  wrapped,  and  made  him 
a  white  over-mantle  of  coarse  stuff  without  sleeves,  wherein  he 
seemed  rather  a  buffoon  than  a  man  of  Religion.  Moreover,  he 
wore  pointed  shoes,  and  gloves  on  his  hands  ;  his  words   were 


330  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

ribald,  foul,  vain,  and  unhonest,  and  empty  and  ridiculous, 
rather  from  his  folly  and  stupidity  than  from  the  malice  of  his 
heart."  The  decree  of  Pope  and  Council  against  the  reception 
of  new  members  was  easily  evaded,  in  the  then  state  of  ecclesi- 
astical discipline.  "  Instead  of  obeying,  they  make  the  garments 
of  their  Order,  and  lay  them  apart  in  the  sight  of  those  who 
would  fain  join  them,  saying  *  We  dare  not  receive  you,  for  that 
is  forbidden  us  :  but  to  you  it  is  not  forbidden :  wherefore  do  ye 
as  seemeth  good  in  your  eyes.'  Thus  have  they  grown  and 
multiplied  beyond  all  count ;  nor  will  they  rest  or  cease  from 
their  folly  until  some  Pope,  in  his  indignation,  shall  blot  out  the 
very  memory  of  them  from  beneath  the  sky."  Meanwhile  "  by 
the  miserliness  and  sloth  of  the  Bishops  they  are  suffered  to 
wander  unprofitably  about  the  world." 

This  multiplication  had  already  brought  its  natural  consequence 
— a  schism  in  the  Order.  Gerard  was  no  organizer,  and  had 
never  cared  to  assume  the  formal  headship.  *'They  have  no  in- 
struction, which  is  great  folly  :  for,  whereas  beasts  and  birds  and 
other  creatures  have  all  that  they  need  from  nature  at  their  very 
birth,  yet  man's  soul  is  created  by  God  like  a  blank  tablet,  and 
they  need  a  teacher.  Therefore  to  these  Apostles  (not  Christ's 
but  Segarello's)  who  are  teacherless,  we  may  apply  that  saying  in 
the  Book  of  Judges  '  in  those  days  there  was  no  king  in  Israel, 
but  everyone  did  that  which  seemed  right  to  himself  (Now 
that  clause  is  written  four  times  in  the  Book  of  Judges,  once 
in  the  17th  chapter,  and  twice  in  the  next,  that  is  in  the  first  and 
last  verse,  and  again  at  the  end  of  the  book.)  Therefore  in  a 
certain  town  of  Apulia,  where  the  country-folk  said  '  we  are  all 
captains  and  good  folk,'  they  were  put  to  flight  by  a  certain  baron 
from  France  on  his  way  to  the  Emperor :  for  they  demanded  toll 
of  him,  which  also  he  would  have  paid  if  he  had  found  a  captain." 
From  Robert,  again,  little  was  to  be  expected  in  the  way  of 
leadership  :  for  "  in  process  of  time,  while  I  dwelt  at  Faenza,  ho 
dwelt  there  also  in  the  house  of  a  certain  Tertiary  called  brother 
Ghiotto  [glutton]  ;  and  "  on  Good  Friday,  at  the  hour  at  which  the 
Son  of  God  was  crucified,  he  became  apostate,  and  cut  his  hair, 
and  shaved  his  beard,  and  took  to  wife  a  certain  female  Hermit. 
I  had  heard  all  this,  but  I  was  loth  to  believe  it  until  I  had  asked 
him  ;  whereupon  he  confessed  and  denied  not  that  he  had  in  truth 
done  all  these  things.  Then  I  rebuked  him  sharply,  but  he  made 
excuse,  saying  that  he  had  never  bound  himself  to  obedience  nor 
to  chastity  ;  wherefore  he  might  well  take  a  wife.  But  I  said  to 
him  that  he  had  worn  publicly  for  many  years  the  habit  of 
religion,  and  ought  therefore  in  no  wise  to  have  taken  to  wife  a 


Believing  and  Trembling.  331 

HermitesB  dedicated  to  God  ;  and  I  added  many  authorities  and 
examples  to  show  him  his  folly  and  wickedness  .  .  .  sixthly  aud 
lastly,  I  showed  him  how  all  who  fall  away  from  God  and  become 
apostate  come  to  an  evil  end,  which  I  have  proved  not  by  ex- 
perience only,  (for  I  have  seen  it  with  mine  own  eyes  and  heard 
it  from  others)  but  also  from  holy  Scripture.  For  either  they  are 
beheaded  or  burnt  or  slain  with  the  sword  or  hanged  on  gallows, 
or  surely  they  die  by  some  other  most  evil  and  shameful  and  cruel 
death."     Robert,  however,  only  "began  to  scoff." 

In  default  of  Robert,  Segarello  found  his  Frate  Elia  in  one 
Guido  Putagio,  a  man  of  noble  family  and  a  personal  friend  of 
Salirabene's.  Guido  "  manfully  took  the  government  to  himself, 
and  held  it  many  years.  But  he  went  abroad  too  pompously  with 
many  horsemen,  and  made  such  lavish  expenses  and  banquets  as 
the  Legates  and  Cardinals  of  the  Roman  Court  are  wont  to  make, 
wherefore  his  followers  took  it  ill,  and  chose  themselves  another 
head,  one  Brother  Matteo  of  the  Mark  of  Ancona  ;  so  that  a 
division  was  made  among  them.  They  came  to  blows  with  one 
another — that  is,  the  Apostles  of  Brother  Matteo  with  the  Apos- 
tles of  Brother  Guido  Putagio — and  gave  an  evil  example  to  the 
laity  at  Faenza.  For  I  dwelt  there  in  those  days,  and  can  bear 
witness  thereof.  Brother  Guido  dwelt  at  Faenza  in  a  little  church 
which  was  in  the  orchard  of  the  families  of  Alberghetti  and 
Accherisi ;  with  whom  were  but  few  Brethren  of  his  own  party, 
and  Brother  Gerardino.  It  seemed  therefore  to  the  Apostles  of 
the  Mark  that  if  they  could  have  Brother  Gerardino,  who  was 
their  founder,  they  would  obtain  the  victory ;  so  they  would  fain 
have  carried  him  off  by  main  force  into  the  Mark  :  but  this  they 
might  by  no  means  do,  so  that  either  party  fought  against  the 
other."  The  scandal  of  these  conflicts  was  heightened  by  a  worse 
incident.  "  In  the  year  1286,  a  certain  rich  young  man,  whose 
father  and  mother  were  still  living,  married  a  wife  ;  and  on  the  day 
of  his  wedding  he  gave  hospitality  to  three  ribalds  of  the  Order  of 
those  who  call  themselves  Apostles  and  are  not ;  and  these  ribalds 
deceived  him  shamefully  and  horribly.  So  when  the  young  man  saw 
that  he  had  been  deceived,  he  caused  them  to  be  taken  before  the 
Podesta,  and  they  were  led  to  the  gallows.  When  therefore 
this  had  come  to  the  ears  of  the  Lord  Obizzo  di  Sanvitale, 
Bishop  of  Parma,  (who  had  long  protected  this  Order  by  reason 
of  Gerardino  their  founder)  he  expelled  them  from  Parma  and 
from  his  whole  Bishopric.  This  same  Gerardino  is  now  come  to 
such  a  pitch  of  madness  as  to  walk  abroad  clad  like  a  buffoon  ; 
and  like  a  strolling  actor  or  clown  he  trails  his  folly  through  the 
streets  and  squares  of  the  city."     Some  years  earlier,  moreover, 


332  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Segarello  had  been  in  the  Bishop's  prison  :  for  Salimbene  wrote 
in  1284  that  "on  account  of  his  follies,  and  his  foul,  carnal,  and 
foolish  words  that  he  was  wont  to  say,  and  the  scandal  that  he 
gave  with  his  unseemly  ordeal  of  chastity,  therefore  the  Lord 
Obizzo,  Bishop  of  Parma,  took  and  cast  him  bound  into  prison  : 
but  in  process  of  time  he  brought  him  thence  and  kept  him  in 
his  palace.  So  when  the  Bishop  ate,  he  ate  also  in  the  hall  of 
the  palace,  at  a  lower  table  with  others.  And  he  loved  to  drink 
choice  wines  and  eat  delicate  meats ;  so  when  the  Bishop  drank 
some  choice  wine,  then  Segarello  would  cry  in  all  men's  hearing, 
desiring  to  drink  of  that  same  wine  ;  and  forthwith  the  Bishop 
woidd  send  him  thereof.  So  when  he  was  fulfilled  of  delicate 
meats  and  choice  wine,  he  would  speak  folly,  and  the  Bishop, 
being  a  merry  man,  would  laugh  at  the  words  and  deeds  of  that 
fool,  whom  he  took  not  for  a  man  of  Religion,  but  for  a  silly  and 
senseless  buifoon." 

Segarello  disappears  here  from  Salimbene's  pages,  but  not 
from  the  stage  of  history.  Honorius  IV  had  issued  a  special 
Bull  against  the  Apostles  about  the  year  1286  :  but  it  was 
evidently  not  obeyed,  for  Nicholas  IV  reissued  it  five  years  later. 
The  order  was  now  proscribed :  and  in  1294  four  Apostles  were 
burned  as  heretics  at  Parma.  Segarello  abjured,  and  was  con- 
demned to  imprisonment  for  life.  He  relapsed,  however,  and 
was  burned  in  1300,  the  year  of  Dante's  vision. 

We  must,  of  course,  allow  for  Salimbene's  jealousy ;  but  his 
accounts  tally  with  those  from  other  sources.  Almost  incredible 
as  it  seems  that  these  Apostles  should  have  enjoyed  distinguished 
ecclesiastical  patronage,  their  story  is  less  strange  than  that  of 
their  contemporaries  the  Guglielmites  at  Milan  and  the  Nemin- 
ians  in  France,  of  whom  only  one  chance  record  has  survived.^' 
After  all,  why  should  not  Segarello  have  passed  so  long  for  a  saint, 
in  an  age  which  was  accustomed  to  still  more  startling  manifest- 
ations on  the  part  of  good  Franciscans  ?  There  is  nothing  in  his 
outward  conduct  more  eccentric  than  what  we  read  of  Fra  Gine- 

Ero  and  Jacopone  da  Todi ;  of  Thomas  the  Irishman  cutting  off 
is  right  thumb  to  avoid  the  priesthood  ;  of  St.  Francis  and  Fra 
Ruffino  climbing  the  pulpit  "  naked  as  they  were  born,  save  in 
their  drawers  only."  Segarello,  like  these,  had  not  only  power- 
ful protectors,  but  also  distinguished  disciples.  The  most  emi- 
nent of  these,  Dante's  Fra  Dolcino,  came  forward  publicly  for 
the  first  time  within  a  month  or  two  of  SegareUo's  death,  and  a 
dozen  years  of  Salimbene's.  A  factitious  importance  was  given 
to  such  enthusiasts  by  the  widespread  religious  unrest  of  the  age  : 
an  unrest  which  seemed  as  strong,  after  nearly  a  century  of  the 


Believing  and  Trembling.  ^33 

Friars'  influence,  as  in  those  days  when  Francis  first  gained  the 
world's  ear  by  words  of  authority  which  contrasted  strangely 
with  those  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  his  time.  As  in  the 
year  1200,  so  also  in  1300,  thousands  were  sick  at  heart,  doubt- 
ing gravely  of  the  official  doctors,  and  therefore  ready  to  follow 
any  blatant  quack  who  caught  their  fancy.  A  deep  despair  of 
the  present  world  lay  at  the  root  of  Dolcino's  revolt.  The  Good 
Pope,  to  whom  Roger  Bacon  and  so  many  others  had  looked  foi-- 
ward,  seemed  farther  off  than  ever.  Any  man  therefore  could 
command  a  following  by  condemning  the  vices  of  the  clergy  and 
offering  to  lead  others  through  blood  and  flame  along  the  shortest 
path  to  heaven.  On  this  idea,  at  least,  Dolcino  did  stake  his 
own  life  and  happiness,  and  persuaded  others  to  stake  theirs. 
Few  are  recorded  to  have  fought  and  suffered  as  those  1400  who 
followed  him  into  the  mountains  ;  fewer  still  have  ever  matched 
the  constancy  with  which  he  himself  bore  the  tortures  of  the  In- 
quisition, and  Margaret  insisted  on  sharing  them  with  him. 


Chapter  XXVI. 
The  Salt  and  its  Savour. 

THE  reader  has  now  seen  how  Salimbene  and  his  contempor- 
aries regarded  the  faith,  the  education,  and  the  morals  of 
a  generation  which  is  generally  allowed  to  stand  at  the  high-water 
mark  of  medieval  life.  Things  were  worse  than  this  before  St. 
Francis  came ;  and  again  there  was  a  f alling-off  in  many  ways 
when  the  Friars  became  as  corrupt  as  the  rest  of  the  clergy. 
For  the  heroic  days  described  in  the  Fioretti  and  Thomas  of 
Eccleston  and  Jordan  of  Giano  were  brief  indeed  ;  and  long  be- 
fore the  first  example  of  self-sacrifice  had  made  its  definite  mark 
on  the  world,  such  self-sacrifice  was  already  rare  in  the  Order 
itself.^  In  brief,  the  Friars  took  the  colour  of  the  old  world  far 
more  rapidly  than  their  own  better  leaven  worked  among  the 
people.  In  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  earliest  days  Francis 
might  almost  have  blessed  his  Order  (if  Order  it  could  then  be 
called)  in  Virgil's  words  to  the  purified  Dante  :  "  Free,  upright, 
and  whole  is  thy  will,  and  'twere  a  fault  not  to  act  according  to 
its  prompting  ;  wherefore  I  do  crown  and  mitre  thee  over  thy- 
self." But  even  before  the  Saint's  death,  Franciscanism  could 
no  longer  be  left  safely  to  its  own  promptings.  The  stricter 
friars  found  themselves  driven  into  a  severity  of  discipline,  a 
stern  and  sad  view  of  human  life  such  as  became  characteristic 
of  later  Puritanism.'  Others  at  the  opposite  pole  abused  Fran- 
ciscan liberty  in  vagabondage,  gluttony,  wine-bibbing  and 
wantonness.  The  large  majority,  between  these  two  extremes, 
tried  more  or  less  unconsciously  to  make  the  best  of  both  worlds, 
and  lived  such  a  life  as  we  see  reflected  in  Salimbene's  pages. 

For  Salimbene,  in  spite  of  all  that  may  be  said  to  the  contrary 
by  those  who  have  formed  their  ideas  from  only  one  side  of  the 
early  records,  is  quite  the  typical  better-class  Franciscan  of  the 
generation  between  St.  Francis  and  Dante.  He  had  many 
better  friends,  and  many  worse,  but  he  himself  was  quite  up  to 
the  average.     That  average  may  seem  low  indeed  to  those  who 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  335 

know  what  St.  Francis  not  only  expected  of  all  his  Brethren,  but 
obtained  from  many  by  the  magnetism  of  his  personal  influence. 
Yet  we  must  not  judge  of  the  Order  from  that  first  group  of 
missionaries  :  for  a  serious  rift  appeared  even  in  the  saint's  life- 
time between  Franciscan  theory  and  practice,  and  widened 
rapidly  into  an  almost  impassable  gulf. 

Every  friar  on  entry  swore  obedience  to  the  Rule,  which  con- 
tained these  words,  written  by  St.  Francis  and  solemnly  ratified 
by  the  Pope  :  "  I  straitly  command  all  my  Brethren  to  receive 
in  no  wise  either  money  or  coin,  whether  directly  or  through  any 
third  person."  The  Brethren  were  further  forbidden  to  possess 
houses  of  their  own ;  and  on  his  deathbed  the  Saint  solemnly 
laid  it  on  their  consciences  never  to  explain  away  these  plain 
words,  nor  to  obtain  Papal  letters  of  interpretation,  whether 
directly  or  indirectly.  Each  novice,  as  he  was  admitted,  swore 
obedience  to  this  Rule,  and  received  in  return  a  solemn  and 
official  assurance  that  by  keeping  it  he  would  earn  eternal  life. 
Compare  this  theory  with  an  incident  which  Salimbene  relates 
without  comment,  and  which  is  confirmed  by  official  documents, 
exactly  30  years  after  St.  Francis's  death.  (463)  "  This  year 
....  in  the  month  of  May,  the  Lord  Guglielmo  Fogliani, 
Bishop  of  Reggio,  sold  to  the  Friars  Minor  of  that  city,  that 
they  might  make  their  habitation  there,  the  Imperial  palace, 
which  the  Lord  Nicholas  his  predecessor  had  had  as  a  gift  from 
the  Emperor  ;  except  that  the  Emperor  kept  the  right  of  lodging 
there  on  his  journeys.  And  the  friars  bought  it,  and  paid  for  it 
with  money  which  they  had  from  the  Sisters  of  the  Order  of  St. 

Clare,  to  whom  they  sold  their  old  convent And  because 

the  friars  had  bought  the  aforesaid  palace,  (save  for  the 
Emperor's  right  of  lodging  there),  therefore  in  process  of  time, 
they  sent  word  to  the  Lord  Rodolph,  who  had  been  elected 
Emperor  by  Pope  Gregory  X,  that  they  possessed  and  dwelt 
in  his  palace  in  the  city  of  Reggio,  and  they  would  gladly 
have  his  leave  to  dwell  there.  And  he  answered  that  he  was 
exceeding  glad  to  have  such  guests,  and  whatever  rights  he  had 
therein  he  gave  wholly  and  freely  to  the  Friars  Minor.  And  of 
this  he  gave  them  two  indented  letters,  confirmed  with  his  own 
seal,  promising  to  confirm  them  yet  more  strongly  if  he  were 
successful  in  getting  possession  of  the  Empire.  And  because 
the  aforesaid  dwelling  was  narrow,  therefore  the  Friars  Minor 
bought  more  ground  and  houses  round  about."  Lower  down  he 
describes  the  buying  of  this  new  land  and  the  building  of  the 
additions  to  the  convent,  "  and  the  commune,"  he  adds,  "  gave 
them  valuers  to  value  in  good  faith  the  price  of  the  houses  to  be 


336  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

bought."  Alberto  Milioli,  the  contemporary  chronicler  of  Reg- 
gio,  adds  the  information  (implied  even  in  Salimbene's  text), 
that  the  Friars  evicted  the  unwilling  sellers  from  their  houses  ; 
and  our  friar's  own  words,  "  they  made  a  new  street,"  imply  that 
these  additions  were  of  considerable  value  and  extent.  Yet  the 
original  palace  must  have  been  a  very  large  building  :  for,  even 
before  the  alterations,  when  the  Emperor  of  Constantinople 
passed  through  the  city,  he  solemnly  knighted  a  noble  "  in  the 
convent  of  the  Friars  Minor,"  on  which  occasion  "  all  the  knights 
and  almost  all  the  ladies  of  Reggio,"  were  present.  (483  ;  487) 
Only  twelve  years  after  St.  Francis's  death,  in  1238,  the  Friars 
of  Valencia  were  presented  with  a  palace  by  a  Moorish  king, 
recently  converted  at  the  point  of  the  sword  ;  and  dozens  of 
cases  might  be  quoted  to  show  how  rapidly  and  how  completely 
the  Order  disobeyed  their  master's  solemn  precepts  on  this  point. 
So  also  on  the  point  of  dress.  The  Rule  bids  them  be  content 
with  two  tunics,  which  they  may  patch  with  sackcloth.  These 
patches  were  also  used  to  thicken  the  tunics  where  the  body  was 
most  sensible  to  cold.^  But  less  than  15  years  after  St.  Francis's 
death  the  friar  who  contented  himself  with  two  old  frocks  was 
already  a  rara  avis.  Salimbene  (286)  speaks  with  admiration  of 
Brother  Buoncompagno  da  Prato  "  a  spiritual  man  :  for  when  I 
dwelt  with  him  in  the  convent  of  Pisa,  whereas  each  Brother 
took  two  new  woollen  tunics  yearly,  yet  he  would  never  accept 
but  one,  and  that  an  old  one  ;  and  when  I  enquired  the  reason, 
he  would  answer  me  saying,  '  Brother  Salimbene,  the  Apostle 
saith.  Every  one  of  us  shall  render  account  to  God  for  himself ; 
and  God  shall  also  demand  such  an  account,  saying  "  Give  an 
account  of  thy  stewardship."  Indeed,  I  shall  scarce  be  able  to 
satisfy  God  for  this  single  tunic  which  I  take.'  "^  Ubertino  says 
that  some  friars  in  the  Genoa  province  had  two  frocks  and  five 
under-tunics ;  and  that  all  of  the  Milan  province  wore  frocks  of 
the  finest  cloth  made  in  Italy.  The  appalling  quibbles  by  which 
this  kind  of  thing  was  justified  may  be  read  in  the  answer  of  the 
Community  to  these  accusations.  Indeed,  here  and  elsewhere, 
the  facts  themselves  are  less  significant  than  the  Jesuitry  with 
which  such  flat  disobedience  was  explained  away  even  by  men 
like  St.  Bonaventura.  For  the  mere  breach  of  their  Rule  the 
friars  had  indeed  the  precedent  of  centuries.  The  monk  also 
was  forbidden  by  his  Rule  to  possess  anything  whatever  of  pri- 
vate property.  Popes  condemned  the  souls  of  "  proprietary  " 
monks  to  hell,  and  their  bodies  to  the  dunghill.  Books  of  con- 
vent miracles  swarm  with  tales  of  their  damnation.  On  the  very 
threshold  of  the  Reformation,  Cardinal  Juan  de  Torqueniada 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  337 

gravely  decides  that  it  is  a  mortal  sin  for  any  monk  to  say  even 
of  a  book  or  any  similar  object  (except  by  a  mere  slip  of  the 
tongue)  "  That  is  mine.''''  On  the  other  hand  monks  did  in  fact 
enjoy  their  private  pocket-money,  or  even  private  incomes,  for 
centuries,  and  would  have  enjoyed  them  for  centuries  more  but 
for  the  violent  interference  of  the  State :  yet  even  the  crooked 
excuses  oiFered  for  this  breach  of  the  Monastic  rule  seem 
straightforward  compared  with  the  jugglery  of  which  Ubertino 
convicted  his  fellow-Franciscans.  The  degradation  of  the  friars 
was  unquestionably  hastened  by  the  habitual  Jesuitry  with  which 
their  false  position  was  defended.' 

In  this  matter  of  buildings,  especially,  modern  writers  have 
painted  even  the  earliest  days  in  false  colours  which  cannot  but 
prove  mischievous  in  the  long  run.  Dr.  Jessopp  outbids  Dr. 
Brewer,  Canon  Rawnsley  outbids  M.  Sabatier,  and  Father 
Cuthbert  outbids  them  all.  But  nothing  can  need  a  lie,  and 
least  of  all  the  spirit  of  St.  Francis,  who  loses  far  more  than  he 
gains  by  pious  exaggerations.  Professor  Brewer,  by  a  very 
natural  slip,  greatly  exaggerated  the  meanness  of  the  Cambridge 
Friars'  chapel  :  but  all  the  rest  follow  him  without  suspicion,  in 
spite  of  the  extreme  inherent  improbability  of  the  story.** 
Again,  he  exaggerated  the  meanness  of  the  town  or  suburban  dis- 
tricts in  which  the  friars  settled  ;  yet  Dr.  Jessopp  outdoes  these 
first  exaggerations  even  in  the  case  of  the  two  Norfolk  boroughs 
which  lie  close  to  his  own  home.  He  writes  "  The  Friars  settled 
outside  the  city  walls  at  Lynn  ....  in  a  filthy  swamp  at  Norwich 
through  which  the  drainage  of  the  city  sluggishly  trickled  into 
the  river,  never  a  foot  lower  than  its  banks. '  These  words  are 
typical  of  the  false  perspective  which  dominates  nearly  all  modern 
popular  writings  on  the  early  Franciscans.  Lynn  had  no  town 
walls  when  the  Friars  settled  there  :  and  the  later  fortifica- 
tions, never  including  a  continuous  wall,  left  the  Greyfriars  inside 
their  enclosure  by  a  good  quarter  of  a  mile  I  Their  site  was 
then,  as  now,  central  and  healthy.  At  Norwich,  their  site  was 
separated  from  the  river,  first  by  one  of  the  oldest  streets  in  the 
town  and  then  by  a  broad  stretch  of  meadow.  Of  these  meadows 
between  the  Friars  and  the  river  all  were  held  by  great  folk  :  and 
in  one  of  them,  about  1300,  Sir  Thos.  Roscelyn  built  himself  a 
house  which  passed  into  the  hands  of  other  equally  noted  citizens." 
Only  a  small  fraction  of  the  city  could  possibly  have  drained  past 
the  Friary  :  nearly  all  the  streets  lay  on  the  other  side  of  the 
slope,  and  drained  into  the  other  bend  of  the  river.  As  the  old 
antiquary  Kirkpatrick  puts  it,  the  Friars  had  "  a  large  parcel  of 
land,  and  of  a  very  pleasant  situation."     In  London,  where  space 


22^  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

was  extremely  scarce,  they  evidently  did  settle  at  first  on  an 
unpleasant  site  :  but  a  beautiful  Early  English  capital  dug  up 
on  the  site  of  Christ's  Hospital  shows  that  they  very  soon  joined 
the  many  offenders  against  the  constitution  forbidding  large  or 
ornamental  churches ;  indeed,  within  a  short  space  afterwards 
their  church  became  one  of  the  most  magnificent  in  the  city. 
If  this  was  so  even  in  England,  where  Franciscans  prided  them- 
selves on  their  special  strictness,  we  need  not  be  surprised  that 
in  Italy,  long  before  the  century  was  out,  they  had  given  grave 
offence  with  their  gardens  and  orchards  and  vineyards.  The 
Spirituals  attacked,  and  St.  Bonaventura  very  lamely  defended, 
their  rapidly-growing  habit  of  settling,  "  to  the  scandal  of  clergy 
and  people,"  no  longer  in  the  country  or  the  suburbs,  but  actually 
within  the  great  towns  ;  where,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  cost  of 
land,  they  yet  managed  to  get  their  great  burial-grounds  and 
their  orchards.  This  complaint  is  still  further  emphasized  by 
Bernard  of  Besse's  admission  that  the  strict  observance  of  St. 
Francis's  ideal  of  poverty  "  is  precluded  in  cities,  by  men's 
wickedness  and  by  the  multitude  of  the  Brethren."^  The 
Franciscan  churches  of  Assisi,  Florence,  Padua,  Todi,  Bologna, 
Parma, — all  built  within  a  century  of  the  Saint's  death — are 
like  so  many  cathedrals.  The  inference  of  poverty  commonly 
drawn  from  the  fact  that  the  Friaries  yielded  little  spoil  at  the 
Dissolution,  and  that  they  had  sometimes  sold  their  books  even 
earlier,  is  extremely  fallacious.  It  only  shows  that,  whatever 
their  income  was,  they  spent  it  as  fast  as  they  got  it ;  or  even, 
like  other  religious  Orders,  incurred  heavy  liabilities  by  living 
beyond  it.  The  amount  of  plunder  which  could  be  squeezed  at 
the  present  moment  from  the  Salvation  Army  would  be  no  true 
measure  either  of  its  actual  income  or  of  the  comforts  enjoyed  by 
its  officers  :  yet  General  Booth's  financial  arrangements  are  far 
more  precise  and  business-like  than  those  of  the  friars  ;  and  a 
modern  liquidator  would  have  advantages  which  were  altogether 
lacking  in  the  16th  century.  We  have  evidence  that,  long  before 
Dante's  death,  the  friars  were  collecting  large  sums  of  money 
which  were  not  always  spent  on  such  worthy  objects  as  buildings 
and  church  ornaments,  illicit  as  even  these  were.  Ubertino 
describes  many  of  his  brother  Friars  as  begging  all  over  the 
country,  with  servants  at  their  heels  bearing  money  boxes  of 
which  the  masters  alone  kept  the  key :  "  and  how  they  spend 
it,  the  tavern-keepers  know,   and   the   servants   who   bear   the 

money They  have  so  corrupted  the  roads  that  such  poor 

Friars  as  will  not  or  cannot  take  bursars  with  them  can  now 
scarce  find  a  living,  since  men  believe  they  must  possess  money 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  339 

like  these  others."  Here  we  have  already  Chaucer's  Friar,  as 
described  by  the  Summoner,  with  his  serrant  to  carry  the  spoils. 
Ubertino  only  stops  short  of  the  last  and  most  intolerable 
accusation — that,  after  writing  down  the  benefactor's  names  to 
be  mentioned  in  his  prayers — 

"  Whan  that  he  was  out  at  dore  anon, 
He  planed  away  the  names  everichon  :  .  .  .  . 
— Nay,  there  thou  Hit,  thou  Somonour !  quod  the  Frere." 

Yet  for  this  also  we  have  plain  documentary  evidence.  The 
still  existing  mortuary  book  of  the  Landshut  Friary  has  had  all 
its  earlier  names  carefully  erased  with  pumice-stone  to  make 
room  for  later  entries ;  so  that  even  the  special  glory  of  the 
convent's  earlier  days,  "the  Venerable  Father  Brother  Conrad  von 
Weilheim,"  had  no  longer  any  share  in  the  prayers  of  the  later 
Brethren.  Similarly  Ubertino  tells  us  how  the  Friars  would  sell 
the  same  wax  taper  ten  times  over  to  different  devotees,  each 
of  whom  had  paid  for  it  in  the  hope  of  receiving  its  spiritual 
benefit  for  himself  alone.^  The  mere  greed  of  money  would 
of  itself  have  seriously  impaired  the  Friars'  authority  over  the 
people  :  but  the  evil  was  increased  by  others  which  it  drew  in 
its  train.  The  earliest  Brethren  had  braced  themselves  for  their 
missionary  work  by  frequent  retreats  to  solitary  hermitages : 
but  in  Salimbene's  time  they  already  crowded  into  the  cities  as 
modern  country-folk  crowd  into  London.  Of  this  he  gives  us, 
quite  incidentally,  a  remarkable  example.  After  speaking  of  the 
miracles  of  Brother  Roland  of  Padua  he  goes  on  to  speak  of 
the  convent  of  La  Vernia  (556)  "where  the  seraph  marked 
the  Blessed  Francis  with  the  five  wounds  after  the  likeness  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  So  I  saw  all  the  places  of  devotion 
which  are  there  :  and  on  the  Lord's  Day  I  celebrated  the  convent 
Mass,  and  after  the  Gospel  I  preached  to  the  assembled  people, 
both  men  and  women.  And  note  that,  when  1  was  at  Alvernia, 
Brother  Lothario,  who  had  formerly  been  my  Custos  at  Pisa, 
was  still  dwelling  there,  though  old  and  infirm.  I  believe  that 
this  convent  would  have  been  deserted  by  the  Brethren  (as  he 
said  to  me),  unless  it  had  been  retained  by  his  good  offices."  It 
may  seem  almost  incredible  that  a  hermitage  so  sacred  in 
Franciscan  tradition  as  La  Vernia  should  have  been  almost 
abandoned  :  but  another  sacred  spot,  Monte  Casale,  where 
Brother  Angelo  joined  the  Order  and  St.  Francis  converted  the 
three  robbers,  was  actually  given  up  by  the  Brethren  before 
1450.  Before  that  year  of  Jubilee  in  which  Dante  imagines 
his  poem,  there  were  not  many  friars  left   who   had   enough 


340  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

firmness  of  purpose  to  live  the  old  simple  life.  Ubertino 
complains  that  the  Order  in  general  had  already  quite  lost  its 
faith  in  the  promises  of  Christ  and  St.  Francis,  and  relied 
instead  on  the  money  gained  from  burials  of  rich  folk,  abso- 
lutions of  usurers,  legacy-hunting,  and  fees  for  masses  and 
spiritual  services.  And  Salimbene  shows  us  this  process  already 
actively  at  work.  He  bitterly  regrets  that  the  earlier  loyalty  to 
St.  Francis's  ideal  should  have  lost  to  the  Order  the  bodies  of 
Count  Raymund  of  Toulouse  and  St.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary, 
and  many  other  such  rich  prizes,  including  a  whole  convent, 
richly  endowed,  which  Innocent  IV  had  offered  them  at  Lavagna. 
(61,  295.)  He  shows  us  usurers  compounding  for  their  sins  by 
giving  conscience-money  to  the  friars  (452 :  609).  Moreover, 
even  the  grosser  forms  of  usury  received  underhand  encourage- 
ment from  the  very  Church  which  damned  them  ;  and  none 
sinned  more  deeply  in  this  respect  than  the  ordinary  friars,  whom 
the  Spirituals  charged  with  habitually  absolving  the  impenitent 
for  the  sake  of  a  share  in  the  plunder.  (Certain  it  is  that  the 
century  of  their  first  and  strongest  influence  saw  a  rapid 
development  of  usurious  practices,  as  the  Franciscan  Nicole 
Bozon  himself  complains,  about  the  date  of  Dante's  death. 
"  Nowadays,"  he  complains,  "  the  old  fashion  is  changed ;  for 
those  who  once  avoided  to  give  such  men  the  kiss  of  peace  in 
church,  are  now  ready  to  kiss  their  feet,  .  .  .  and  they  whose 
bodies  were  wont  to  be  buried  in  the  field  or  the  garden  are  now 
entombed  in  churches  before  the  High  Altar."^ 

Again,  this  growing  thirst  for  money  brought  the  Franciscans 
into  collision  with  the  other  clergy  and  Religious — no  longer  now 
with  the  vicious  and  jealous  only,  but  with  the  whole  body  out- 
side their  own  Order.  Already  in  Thomas  of  Celano's  "  Second 
Life"  we  find  complaints  of  quarrels  with  their  old  friends  and 
allies  the  Dominicans.  Salimbene  tells  us  plainly  of  the  breach 
with  their  next  nearest  friends,  the  Cistercians.  The  Spirituals 
were  justly  scandalized  by  the  Bulls  which  the  laxer  Brethren 
obtained  to  hinder  other  Orders  from  building  convents  within 
a  certain  radius  of  their  own  Friaries.  The  holy  violence  with 
which  we  have  seen  them  evict  a  priest  from  his  own  church 
in  Genoa  was  quite  common,  by  Bonaventura's  own  confession. 
One  by  one,  they  obtained  Papal  privileges  enabling  them  to 
encroach  by  force  on  parochial  duties,  and  to  compete  foi- 
parochial  fees.  The  consequences  may  be  guessed.  St.  Francis 
had  indeed  protested  on  his  deathbed  "  If  I  had  the  wisdom  of  a 
Solomon,  and  found  paltry  secular  priests,  I  would  not  preach 
against  their  will  in  the  churches  wherein  they  reside."     But, 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  341 

only  30  years  afterwards,  St.  Bonaventura  writes  "  If  we  were 
never  to  abide  in  parishes  but  by  the  priest's  will,  then  we  should 
scarce  ever  be  able  to  stay  long ;  since,  whether  of  their  own 
motion  or  at  others'  instigation,  they  would  eject  us  from  their 
parishes  sooner  than  heretics  or  Jews."^°  Indeed,  it  was  not  long 
before  the  parish  clergy  began  to  retort  the  worst  of  the 
accusations  brought  against  themselves  by  the  Friars.  St. 
Francis  himself,  apparently,  had  not  altogether  escaped  suspic- 
ion ;  and  he  in  turn  soimded  a  plain  note  of  warning  to  his 
Brethren  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  his  Rule.  Scandals,  and 
sometimes  more  real  difficulties,  compelled  the  Franciscan 
authorities  to  renounce,  over  and  over  again,  the  official  direct- 
tionof  the  Poor  Clares.  Salimbene  (421)  tells  us  how  one  day 
at  Faenza  "  as  I  was  walking  through  the  garden  thinking  of 
the  Lord,  I  was  called  by  a  certain  secular  man  of  Ferrara 
named  Matulino,  a  very  great  talker  and  composer  of  Canzoni 
and  Serventesi,  and  one  who  noted  us  Religious  and  found 
fault  with  us  :  for  he  sat  under  a  fig-tree  with  two  Brethren  of 
whom  he  asked  questions ;  and  he  cried  to  me  '  Dan  Friar,  come 
hither  and  sit  with  us.' "  Matulino  had  lately  been  at  dinner 
with  the  Bishop  of  Forli,  and  there  the  clergy  had  made  much 
the  same  complaints  against  the  Friars  with  which  St.  Bonaven- 
tura deals  in  the  Qnaestiones  circa  Regulam  and  Libellus  Apologe- 
ticus  :  for,  (as  Salimbene  puts  it)  "  it  is  plain  that  the  priests  and 
secular  clergy  always  lie  in  wait  for  us  and  are  glad  to  calumniate 
us  ...  .  As  to  the  sixth  of  these  malicious  accusations,  that 
we  are  ladies'  men  ;  that  is,  that  we  gladly  see  women  and  speak 
with  ladies,  and  are  in  familiar  talk  with  them,  we  say  that  these 
are  the  words  of  such  as  '  lay  a  blot  on  the  elect ' — that  is,  of 
buffoons  and  play-actors  and  such  as  are  called  Knights  of  the 
Court,  who  think  to  excuse  themselves  from  their  own  vanity 
and  wantonness  in  defaming  others.'  Then  answered  Matulino 
and  said  '  I  tell  you  in  truth.  Brother  Salimbene,  those  were  the 
words  of  the  Bishop  of  Forli,  and  not  of  a  buffoon.  And,  under 
my  eves,  he  arose  from  table  and  took  a  Bible  and  showed  me 
how  it  was  written  "  Sit  not  at  all  with  another  man's  wife,  nor 
repose  upon  the  bed  with  her ;  and  strive  not  with  her  over 
wine,  lest  thy  heart  decline  towards  her,  and  by  thy  blood  thou 
fall  into  destruction."  And  he  said  that  ye  1  riars  Minor  and 
Preachers  do  daily  contrary  to  that  Scripture  ;  and  his  clergy 
consented  with  him  and  confirmed  his  words.'  Then  I  answered 
and  said  '  The  Bishop  of  Forli  is  such  as  Ecclesiasticus  saith  "he 
lieth  in  wait  and  turned  good  into  evil,  and  on  the  Elect  he 
will   lay   a   blot " ;  and  of  his  clergy   I  say  that  I   care   not 


34*  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

for  their  praise,  for  Seneca  saith  "  Care  no  more  to  be  praised 
by  base  lolk  than  if  thou  wert  praised  for  base  things. '  We 
and  the  Friars  Preachers  are  poor  mendicants  who  must  needs 
live  on  alms ;  and  among  those  who  help  us  are  women,  as  it  is 
written  in  Eoclesiasticus  "  Where  there  is  no  wife,  he  mourneth 
that  is  in  want "  :  for  they  are  more  merciful  to  help  the  poor 
and  more  pitiful  to  the  afflicted  than  men,  who  are  harder  of 
heart.  Wherefore,  when  they  send  for  us,  we  must  needs  go  to 
them  for  their  sick  folk  or  for  any  other  tribulation  which  they 
have,  that  we  may  make  them  some  return  of  kindness  and  not 
be  found  ungrateful,  since  the  Apostle  saith  "  and  be  ye  thank- 
ful." We  strive  not  with  any  women  over  wine  ;  for  according 
to  our  constitution  we  dare  not  drink  in  cities,  save  with  prelates 
and  Religious  and  Lords  of  Manors.' "  This  plea,  which  after 
all  only  rehearses  the  theory  of  Franciscan  life  and  still  leaves 
its  practice  to  be  proved,  is  reinforced  by  a  digression  in  which 
our  Friar  brings  against  the  clergy  some  of  the  accusations  re- 
corded in  a  previous  chapter :  and  Matulino  professed  himself 
abundantly  satisfied.  "  But  I  said  to  him  :  '  five  years  1  dwelt 
in  the  city  of  Ravenna,  yet  I  never  set  foot  in  the  house  of  the 
lord  Marquis  Michael,  who  is  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  noble 
and  richest  of  that  city.'  '  And  I,'  said  he,  '  have  been  there 
an  hundred  times  at  meat  with  him.'  Then  answered  I  '  Who 
therefore  is  the  greater  ladies'  man,  thou  or  I  ? '  And  he  said 
'  I  see  that  it  is  I  :  and  you  have  hemmed  me  in  and  given  me 
checkmate,  nor  have  I  more  to  answer.'  Then  said  I  to 
Matulino" — and  here  follows  the  second  little  sermon  against 
ladies'  society  and  in  praise  of  chastity  from  which  I  have  already 
quoted  in  chapter  viii :  after  which  Salimbene  ends  in  triumph, 
"  Since,  then,  we  are  not  ignorant  of  all  these  things,  we  are  no 
ladies'  men,  as  our  friends  assert  against  us,  but  (as  it  is  written 
in  the  book  of  Tobias)  'we  are  the  children  of  saints,  and  look 
for  that  life  which  God  will  give  to  those  that  never  change 
their  faith  with  him.'  What  more  shall  I  say  ?  "  What  more, 
indeed  ?  How  could  Matulino  fail  to  become  "  such  a  friend  of 
mine  that  I  always  found  him  ready  to  render  me  service  ;  but 
he  lost  nothing  thereby,  for  I  gave  him  to  wife  the  daughter  of 
a  man  of  Ferrara  who  dwelt  at  Ravenna,  by  whom  he  had  a 
great  dowry  ....  for  the  girl's  father  confessed  to  me  in  that 
sickness  whereof  he  died." 

It  is  a  long  step  from  all  this  to  the  Fioretti  or  to  Thomas  of 
Eccleston  :  and  indeed  that  intervening  half  century  had 
wrought  far-reaching  changes  among  the  Franciscans.  The 
fact  is,  that  the  very  strictness  of  the  Rule  in  theory  hard- 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  343 

ened  the  average  friar's  heart  against  its  literal  observance 
in  practice,  just  as  the  very  Puritanism  of  the  medieval  theory 
of  religion  partly  accounts  for  the  absence  of  Puritanism  in 
medieval  practice.  A  limited  number  of  men  were  precisians 
by  profession,  and  the  majority  felt  all  the  more  dispensed  from 
the  necessity  of  imitating  them ;  as  the  crowds  of  our  great 
towns  claim  a  sort  of  vicarious  merit  in  the  achievements  of 
their  professional  football-players.  St.  Francis's  straightforward 
glance  had  already  noted  how  many  of  his  Brethren  "  were  fain 
to  receive  praise  and  honour  only  by  rehearsing  and  preaching 
the  works  that  the  saints  did  themselves  achieve."  So  Ubertino 
asserts  solemnly  before  God  that,  although  there  was  no  longer 
any  real  diiFerence  between  friars  and  monks  as  to  the  reception 
of  money,  his  brethren  continued  to  glory  in  the  unique  strictness 
of  their  own  Rule.^^ 

Moreover,  quite  apart  from  their  quarrels  with  the  clergy, 
they  rapidly  lost  popularity  with  the  laity.  Salimbene  has  told 
us  how  the  country-folk  attributed  the  barrenness  of  the  earth 
to  the  malign  influence  of  the  Friars :  and  the  same  complaint 
meets  us  in  a  saying  of  Jordan  of  Saxony.  St.  Bonaventura  and 
Ubertino,  however  else  they  differ,  agree  in  frequently  referring  to 
the  waning  popularity  of  their  Order.'^  Almost  more  significant 
are  the  disciplinary  books  of  the  early  Franciscans,  in  their  ex- 
treme and  petty  anxiety  to  avoid  unsympathetic  criticism.  Mr. 
McCabe  describes  the  painful  efforts  of  the  modern  Franciscans 
to  hide  all  their  doings  from  even  the  most  sympathetic  outsiders : 
and  there  was  just  the  same  jealous  secrecy  in  the  13th  century.^* 
Eccleston  describes  how  Albert  of  Pisa,  Minister  General  of  the 
Order  (d.  1280)  "was  wont  to  say  to  his  companion,  Ognibene  by 
name,  when  they  came  to  the  house  of  spiritual  friends, '  Eat  now, 
eat :  we  may  eat  securely  here  ! '  For  he  was  wont,  so  far  as  in 
him  lay,  to  beware  of  all  secular  folk."  He  goes  on  to  tell  another 
story  to  point  the  same  moral,  that  the  less  layfolk  see  of  the 
inner  life  of  the  Religious,  the  more  they  are  likely  to  honour 
them.  St,  Bonaventura's  secretary  shows  the  same  jealous 
exclusiveness.  "  If  novices  are  questioned  about  the  doings  of 
the  Order,  as  of  their  fashion  of  fasting,  their  silence,  or  other 
points,  let  them  plead  that  they  are  fresh  to  the  Order,  and  pass 
the  question  on  to  a  senior ;  lest  perchance,  while  they  think 
themselves  to  answer  wisely  and  well,  they  say  something  foolish 
and  altogether  unfit  to  be  said.  Let  them  reveal  the  secrets  of 
the  Order  to  none,  however  religious  or  familiar ;  nor  let  them 
publish  any  statute,  unless,  perchance,  it  cannot  conveniently 
be  concealed."     Again,  "  Let  them  never  invite  strangers,  even 


344  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

their  familiar  friends,  to  visit  the  Offices  of  the  Convent.  Or  if 
ever,  at  some  man's  urgent  entreaty,  they  are  permitted  to  show 
these,  let  them  show  only  the  more  common  buildings,  not  entering 
and  going  from  place  to  place  and  from  corner  to  corner,  but 
standing  at  the  door  and,  with  all  possible  expedition  short  of 
discourtesy,  furtively  hiding  all  that  can  be  concealed  from  the 
strangers'  gaze.  There  is  no  Religion  where  all  things  are  open  to 
all  men."  Moreover,  even  where  the  Friar  thinks  himself  most 
secure,  he  must  still  be  on  his  guard.  "  A  certain  Brother  was 
wont  to  relate  that  he  had  discovered  in  certain  lay  folks'  houses 
secret  loopholes,  whereby  all  that  was  unsuspiciously  done  in 
those  houses  could  be  clearly  seen."  "  Let  [friars]  altogether 
avoid  loud  speech  ....  and  especially  M^hen  they  are  in  woods 
or  thickets :  for,  (as  the  vulgar  proverb  hath  it)  woods  have  ears, 
and  the  level  plain  hath  eyes.  Let  them  therefore  abstain 
altogether,  in  thick  and  woody  places,  from  all  things  which  they 
would  not  say  before  secular  folk  ;  unless  perchance  they  wish 
to  say  anything  under  their  breath,  as  it  were,  and  in  the  Latin 
tongue.  Miserable  confusions  from  this  cause  are  reported 
oftentimes  to  have  befallen  certain  friars  who  have  not  used  due 
caution."  Even  in  the  estimate  of  the  gravity  of  an  offence  this 
consideration  of  scandal  plays  a  great  part.  St.  Bonaventura, 
commenting  on  the  clause  of  the  Rule  which  bids  friars  who 
have  committed  mortal  sin  to  have  recourse  at  once  to  their 
Provincial  for  absolution,  adds — "  This  is  to  be  understood  of 
notorious  sins  only  :  for  those  which  are  secret  should  not  be 
made  public  :  since,  other  things  being  equal,  a  sin  done  publicly 
to  the  scandal  of  others  is  more  grievous  than  a  hidden  sin,  and 
therefore  more  grievously  to  be  punished."^* 

Yet  all  this  was  a  mere  daubing  with  untempered  mortar  ;  for, 
when  it  was  known  that  so  many  scandals  really  existed,  the 
very  effort  to  conceal  them  did  more  harm  than  good.  As  the 
adversary  objects  to  St.  Bonaventura,  "  since  the  Religious  are 
wont  so  studiously  to  conceal  their  doings,  it  is  suspected  that 
certain  improprieties  take  place  among  them  :  for  why  else  are 
things  so  studiously  hidden,  since  there  is  no  need  to  conceal 
that  which  is  good  ?  "  To  which  the  Saint  can  only  reply  that 
this  is  partly  in  order  to  avoid  vainglory,  partly  to  conceal  real 
shortcomings,  but  "  mainly  for  the  laity's  sake  ....  for  friars 
cannot  look  into  all  men's  hearts  and  satisfy  all  with  a  reason 
why  this  or  that  is  done  [in  their  convents],  since  secular  folk 
are  rude,  and  prone  generally  to  suspect  evil  of  the  Religious."^* 
Yet  there  is  nothing  hid  that  shall  not  be  revealed  ;  and  from  a 
thousand  little  scattered  indications  we  can  reconstitute  pretty 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  345 

exactly  the  life  of  a  Franciscan  cloister.  However,  it  is  no  part 
of  mj  task  here  to  present  a  full  picture  of  the  ordinary  Friar's 
daily  life :  that  would  need  a  special  volume  to  itself.  I  shall 
only  attempt  to  bring  out  certain  points  which  are  necessary  to 
the  full  appreciation  of  Salimbene's  autobiography,  yet  on  which 
the  most  accessible  books  tell  us  little  or  nothing. 

Next  to  the  matter  of  money  and  possessions,  in  which  even 
the  Papal  Bulls  mark  clearly  step  by  step  the  rapid  lowering  of 
the  Franciscan  ideal,  perhaps  the  Friar's  most  natural  and 
insidious  temptation  lay  in  the  hospitality  of  the  outside  world 
towards  his  Order  and  himself.  It  is  a  matter  of  common  ob- 
servation that  the  customary  inactivity  of  the  modern  Sunday 
generates,  in  all  but  the  most  earnest  and  ascetic  minds,  a  positive 
craving  for  creature  comforts ;  and  the  13th  century  was  no 
more  able  than  our  own  age  to  supply  enough  really  earnest  and 
ascetic  minds  to  form  one  tenth  of  the  multitudes  who  crowded 
into  the  new  Orders.  "  Why,"  asks  St.  Bonaventura's  adversary, 
"  do  we  see  all  Orders  of  Religious  decay  in  religious  life,  even 
while  they  seem  to  advance  in  temporal  prosperity  and  in  certain 
ceremonial  observances  ?  "  And  the  saint,  admitting  the  fact, 
answers  sadly  that  "one  cause  is  the  multitude  of  those  that 
enter  in."  As  Roger  Bacon  tells  us,  thousands  of  these  converts 
were  ignorant  schoolboys  :  many  others  brought  into  the  Order 
a  mind  and  body  broken  by  dissipation,  like  the  typical  husband 
of  French  Romance  :  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  collo- 
cation of  those  who  knew  nothing  of  real  life  M'ith  others  who 
knew  only  too  much  of  one  side  of  it,  reacted  almost  as  in- 
juriously on  the  discipline  of  the  cloister  as  it  notoriously  did  on 
that  of  the  medieval  universities.  We  find  in  these  Franciscan 
manuals  evident  efforts  to  keep  the  old  and  the  young  apart  to 
some  extent,  though  nothing  like  the  elaborate  system  of  precau- 
tions which  the  Benedictines  attempted.  After  all  the  goodwill 
of  their  first  conversion,  the  majority  found  themselves  still  very 
human.  The  strictly  ascetic  minority,  again,  were  too  few,  under 
the  most  favourable  circumstances,  to  leaven  the  mass  thoroughly  j 
while  in  most  places  they  were  actually  persecuted  and  imprison- 
ed, or  even  done  to  death  and  buried  with  the  burial  of  a  dog, 
for  their  inconvenient  puritan  zeal.  Hence  we  find  very  early  in- 
dications of  that  recoil  of  oppressed  nature  which  Mr.  McCabe 
describes  so  graphically  among  the  modern  Franciscans.  He 
relates  how  casuists  permit  a  fast-dinner  to  be  protracted  for 
four  hours,  and  how  he  himself  has  assisted  at  such  which  have 
lasted  for  three  ;  statements  which  square  well  enough  with  the 
menu  of  the  fast-dinner  given  by  St.  Louis,  and  with  several 


34^  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

other  indications  in  our  chronicle.  Salimbene  complains  more 
than  once  of  habitual  self-indulgence  on  the  part  of  the  higher 
officials.  Similarly,  Ubertino  writes  "  while  Prelates  guzzle 
daily,  the  sick  are  almost  starved  :  "  and  again  "  so  high  has  the 
flood  of  idleness  and  gluttony  and  continued  familiarities  with 
women  risen,  that  I  rather  wonder  at  those  who  stand  than  at 
those  who  fall-''^" 

The  early  Franciscan  documents  show  us  at  every  turn  how 
the  ultra-ascetic  ideal  defeated  its  own  object.  The  whole  tragedy 
of  the  Friars'  decay  during  the  lifetime  of  those  who  had  known 
the  founder  himself,  may  be  found  written  in  St.  Bonaventura's 
QucBstiones  circa  Regulam  and  his  two  Epistles  to  the  Provincials 
of  the  Order.  As  the  early  heroes  of  Franciscanism  dropped  out 
of  the  ranks — some  by  premature  death,  others  eking  out  a 
crippled  existence  in  the  convent  infirmaries  after  the  ascetic 
excesses  of  their  earlier  days — a  new  generation  grew  up  which, 
while  it  knew  the  old  rigours  mainly  by  hearsay,  had  the  plainest 
ocular  testimony  of  the  irregular  luxuries  with  which  the  dis- 
crepit  Religious  were  daily  pampered.  The  enormous  popularity 
of  the  Order,  and  the  indiscriminate  reception  of  candidates, 
contributed  still  more  to  relax  the  earlier  discipline.  St.  Bona- 
ventura  bewails  the  growing  extravagance  of  their  buildings  and 
private  expenses,  and  their  wearisome  demands,  direct  or  indirect, 
upon  the  charity  of  the  laity,  so  that  the  wayfarer  already  fears 
a  friar  as  he  would  fear  a  robber.  The  Saint  himself  "  would 
willingly  be  ground  to  powder,"  if  so  he  could  bring  the  Order 
back  to  its  purity  of  only  half-a-century  ago  :  but  (as  Father 
Ehrle  points  out)  the  downward  impetus  was  too  strong,  and 
the  "  relaxed  "  party  made  rapid  strides  even  during  the  Saint's 
long  generalate.^'^  Moreover  these  relaxations  among  the  large 
majority  necessarily  entailed  suflerings  upon  the  strict  minority, 
who,  as  even  moderates  like  St.  Bonaventura  and  David  of 
Augsburg  complain,  were  already  not  only  despised  but  actually 
persecuted.^^  It  only  remained  that  the  too  strict  observance  of 
St.  Francis's  Rule  and  Testament  should  be  publicly  condemned 
as  heresy  ;  and  this  was  done  by  John  XXII  in  1317.  From  that 
time  forward,  friars  were  burned  by  their  fellow-friars  for  loyalty 
to  the  first  traditions  of  the  Order  ;  since,  helplessly  subject  as 
they  were  to  the  Roman  hierarchy,  they  were  not  even  allowed 
for  many  years  to  form  separate  congregations  of  their  own  for 
the  strict  observance  of  the  Rule.  This  must  alway  be  borne  in 
mind  when  we  are  tempted  to  draw  invidious  parallels  between 
the  Franciscans  and,  for  instance,  the  Wesleyans.  The  price  which 
St.  Francis  had  paid  for  the  official  recognition  of  his  Order  by 


The  Salt  and  its  Savour.  347 

Innocent  III  was  in  fact  the  degradation  of  the  whole  ideal. 
From  the  moment  that  the  Friars  became  a  sort  of  papal  militia, 
they  must  needs  conform  to  the  general  policy  of  the  Roman 
Court,  and  come  to  terms  with  the  greed,  the  ambition,  and  the 
corruption  for  which  that  Court  long  had  been,  and  was  long  to 
be,  notorious.  The  Wesley ans,  as  an  independent  body,  have 
thus  been  able  to  work  more  powerfully  for  good  on  the  Church 
which  they  left,  than  the  Friars  could  act  on  the  Church  to  which 
they  clung.  In  the  face  of  powerful  spiritual  rivals,  Anglicanism 
has  had  no  chance  of  holding  her  ground  but  by  her  learning  and 
her  good  works.  On  the  other  hand,  when  once  the  Roman 
Court  had  succeeded  in  assimilating  the  Friars,  she  had  little 
further  to  fear  from  their  inconvenient  reforming  energy.  Under 
its  garb  of  poverty,  the  Order  soon  became  notorious  for  its 
flattery  of  the  rich.  The  friars  of  the  13th  century  had  indeed 
protested  almost  with  Luther's  violence  against  the  abuses  of  the 
indulgence  system  :  but  the  friars  of  the  15th  and  16th  centuries 
were  the  chief  pardon-mongers.^^  When  we  speak  of  schism  as  a 
great  evil,  let  us  also  admit  that  even  greater  evils  may  conceivably 
spring  from  conformity  to  a  system  deeply  corrupted  in  practice. 
The  failm-e  of  the  Franciscans  is  in  fact  a  direct  justification  of 
the  policy  of  our  Reformers  :  for  certainly  one  of  the  most  potent 
causes  of  Franciscan  corruption  lay  in  a  false  notion  of  Authority. 
It  was  that  notion  which  enabled  the  less  spiritual  majority 
among  the  Friars,  while  swearing  obedience  to  the  Rule  and  boast- 
ing the  strictness  of  that  Rule,  to  torture  or  put  to  death  those 
few  who  really  followed  the  Rule. 

Of  this,  however,  Salimbene  gives  us  little  direct  evidence, 
though  his  chronicle  supplies  us  with  the  most  valuable  indirect 
corroboration  of  bitter  and  repeated  complaints  from  contem- 
poraries. It  is  natural,  after  all,  that  he  should  accept  papally 
approved  relaxations  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  spend  little  ink 
on  the  dissentient  Brethren  who  clung  in  spite  of  persecution  to 
a  doomed  cause.  Of  horrors  outside  the  convent  he  has  plenty 
to  tell  us  :  but,  so  far  as  the  inner  life  is  concerned,  the  greater 
part  of  his  Chronicle  reflects  his  own  cheerful  and  slightly  cynical 
humour.  In  it  we  see  plainly  the  average  Friar,  deep  in  admira- 
tion for  the  Saints  of  his  Order,  yet  without  any  strong  personal 
desire  for  martyrdom  :  full  of  fellow-feeling  for  the  sinners,  yet 
keeping  himself  pure  on  the  whole  from  all  grosser  transgressions. 
If  at  times  his  manners  and  his  morals  seem  strange  to  us,  the 
fault  lies  not  in  the  man  but  in  his  age.  The  more  intimate 
study  of  medieval  life,  while  it  deepens  our  interest  and  aflection 
for  the  separate  figures  which  flit  over  that  strange  stage,  is  apt 


34 8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

to  increase  our  horror  of  the  gloomy  background  behind  even  the 
gayest  and  brightest  groups  of  actors.  Then,  as  now,  most  men 
struggled  with  more  or  less  success  against  disorder  and  crime  : 
but  our  hearty  recognition  of  their  honest  efforts  ought  not  to 
blind  us  to  the  rottenness  of  many  institutions  which  they  sought 
to  uphold,  or  to  the  barbarous  conditions  which  too  often  rendered 
their  labours  fruitless. 


Chapter  XXVII. 
Conclusion* 

I  HA  VE  tried  to  show,  through  a  faithful  summary  of  Salim- 
bene's  autobiography  with  contemporary  illustrations,  how 
life  would  have  looked  to  us  if  we  had  been  born  in  the  age  of 
St.  Francis  and  Dante.  If  I  seem  to  have  laid  undue  stress  on 
the  darker  side,  I  would  plead  two  considerations.  First,  if  I 
had  contented  myself  with  a  bare  translation  of  Salimbene  oflP- 
hand — or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  of  any  among  half-a-dozen 
others  of  that  century  whom  I  could  name — the  picture  thus  pre- 
sented would  still  have  seemed  almost  incredibly  dark  to  the 
modern  English  reader.  Imagination  staggers  at  the  moral  gulf 
that  yawns  between  that  age  and  ours.  Secondly,  plain  speaking 
on  this  subject  is  rendered  imperative  by  the  persistent  misrepre- 
sentations of  those  who  champion  dying  theories  in  our  own  day. 
Reactionaries  build  themselves  an  imaginary  past,  just  as  the 
femme  incomprise  takes  refuge,  in  the  imaginary  homage  of 
distant  friends,  from  the  unsympathetic  common-sense  of  those 
among  whom  she  has  to  live.  The  whole  Middle  Ages  cry  out 
to  us  from  Dante's  great  poem  "  Who  shall  deliver  us  from  the 
body  of  this  death  ?  "  and  I  have  chosen  Salimbene's  chronicle 
for  my  main  theme  because  he  shows  us  more  clearly  than  any 
other  what  was  the  Body  of  that  Death.  I  am  aware  that  many 
will  refuse  to  accept  this  picture  as  true  :  but,  as  I  have  already 
said,  I  gladly  challenge  comparison  with  other  contemporary 
evidence. 

Meanwhile  it  is  essential  to  a  comprehension  of  our  own  life 
that  we  should  face  honestly  and  answer  as  truly  as  possible  the 
question  whether  the  morality  of  the  "Ages  of  Faith"  stood 
higher  or  lower  than  that  of  our  own  time.  If  the  things  that 
are  more  excellent  have  been  steadily  fading  from  the  world 
during  these  600  years,  then  it  should  clearly  be  the  aim  of 
civilization  to  hark  back  to  the  ideal  of  one  central  and  absolute 


2  so  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

religious  authority.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  struggle  among 
different  creeds  has  tended  towards  a  steady  elimination  of  evil 
and  growth  of  good — if  many  theories  of  the  past,  however 
massive  and  imposing,  have  shown  themselves  as  little  fitted  to 
survive,  as  little  worthy  of  regret,  as  the  Mammoth  or  the 
Mastodon — then  we  may  continue  without  misgiving  to  shape 
our  creed  by  the  Pauline  maxim  "  Prove  all  things,  hold  fast  that 
which  is  good."  I  have  tried,  in  the  spirit  of  that  maxim,  to 
appreciate  those  real  virtues  of  Romanism  which  make  it  still  a 
living  creed,  and  have  changed  it  gradually  for  the  better  in 
spite  of  its  professed  immutability.  But  I  have  not  attempted 
to  conceal  my  conviction  that  its  exclusive  pretensions  are  flatly 
contradicted  by  the  history  of  the  very  time  at  which  they  seemed 
most  nearly  justified  :  and  that  the  world  is  far  purer  and  better 
for  the  decay  of  sacerdotalism.  One  tenth  of  the  abuses  that 
reigned  in  the  13th  century  would  have  sufficed  to  wreck  any 
Church  in  a  less  barbarous  age.  If  Romanism  dominated  the 
Western  world  for  three  whole  centuries  longer,  it  was  mainly 
because  it  maintained  a  Saturnine  supremacy  by  devouring  its 
own  children.  The  Inquisition  ruthlessly  murdered  every  non- 
Roman  organization  in  its  cradle  :  and  all  the  while,  within  the 
Church  itself,  men  hoped  for  better  things  till  hope  grew  sick. 
Dante,  with  the  Franciscan  reform  not  yet  dead  around  him, 
could  still  look  for  the  regeneration  of  Romanism  from  within. 
But  Langland,  a  couple  of  generations  later,  though  he  hated 
heretics  as  heartily  as  Dante  did,  had  already  lost  Dante's  hope 
in  the  Church.  For  him,  the  last  stronghold  of  Christianity  had 
already  succumbed  to  the  assaults  of  Antichrist  and  the  treachery 
of  the  Friars.  Henceforth  his  pattern  of  simple  faith,  his  Piers 
Plowman,  must  shake  the  dust  of  the  past  from  his  feet,  and 
wander  forth  alone  to  the  world's  end  in  search  of  the  Christ  that 
is  to  be.^  Wiclif  himself  scarcely  condemns  the  prelate  and  the 
parish  priest  more  outspokenly  than  St.  Bonaventura  :  it  was 
only  that  the  Englishman's  bolder  logic  and  his  century  of  later 
experience  drove  him  to  a  conclusion  which  the  Saint  had 
studiously  avoided.  Wiclif  was  the  first  great  philosopher  and 
theologian  to  confess  frankly  that  the  Medieval  Church  would 
never  be  reformed  except  by  a  revolution  from  within  and  by 
violent  pressure  from  the  laity  without. 

Much,  however,  of  the  generous  modern  over-estimate  of 
medieval  society  is  due  to  the  admiration  for  medieval  art.  Men 
have  jumped  to  the  hasty  but  mistaken  conclusion  that  the  artists 
whom  we  now  admire  so  much  had  greater  honour  in  their  own 
country  than  their  modern  successors  have.^     Again,  the  men 


Conclusion.  351 

who  built  and  adorned  our  churches  (it  is  argued),  must  have 
been  better  men  than  we.  Yet  this  indirect  argument  from  art 
to  morals  is  utterly  fallacious.  Perugino  was  a  rank  materialist, 
who  could  never  be  persuaded  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  :' 
Kaphael  painted  his  Madonnas  in  the  midst  of  a  society  rotten 
to  the  core :  and  the  peculiarly  modern  art  of  landscape  may 
teach  us  the  same  lesson.  Six  hundred  years  hence,  the  enthusi- 
astic student  of  Turner  will  be  tempted  to  imagine  that  Eng- 
lishmen of  the  19th  century  loved  their  country  scenery  better 
than  any  race  in  any  age.  Yet  never  has  man  done  more  to  ruin 
the  landscape  ;  never  has  he  crowded  more  blindly  from  the  fresh 
fields  into  the  smoky  town.  Now  that  we  are  falling  in  love  with 
the  country  again,  preserving  ruins  and  lakes  by  Act  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  planning  our  new  Garden  Cities,  who  dares  on  that 
account  to  promise  us  another  Turner,  or  even  another  David 
Cox  ?  The  art  of  the  Middle  Ages  stood  at  that  exquisite 
moment  when  the  first  rays  of  sunrise  glisten  on  the  dews  of 
night,  and  colour  its  parting  clouds.  In  those  wild  days,  building 
was  the  one  possible  investment,  and  the  church  the  one  building 
which  offered  the  artist  some  real  hope  of  protection  for  himself 
and  his  work.  The  true  artistic  greatness  of  the  Middle  Ages 
begins  with  the  1 1th  century,  when  art  and  learning  began  to 
leave  the  cloister  which  had  sheltered  them  in  the  germ,  and  to 
spread  freely  through  the  world.  The  greatest  works  of  those 
days  were  carried  out  not  hy  celibate  monks  or  clerics,  but  only 
for  monks  and  clerics.  The  real  artists  were  the  most  Bohemian 
of  craftsmen  — wandering  masons,  who  loved  wine,  women,  and 
Bong,  but  whose  too  riotous  fancies  were  chastened  by  the  spirit 
of  asceticism  among  the  clerical  patrons  that  directed  the  general 
lines  of  their  work.  Even  so,  the  glories  of  medieval  art  often 
seemed  superfluous,  wasteful,  and  actually  semi-pagan,  to  the 
noblest  minds  of  the  time.  So  long  as  the  spirit  of  St.  Bernard 
lived  in  the  Order,  there  was  no  Cistercian  school  of  architecture  ; 
and  before  ecclesiastical  art  had  grown  to  maturity  in  the  13th 
century,  the  monasteries  were  already  verging  on  moral  decay, 
St.  Francis,  again,  gave  a  powerful  impulse  to  art :  but  only 
indirectly,  and  against  his  own  will.  The  splendid  basilica  at 
Assisi,  Sta.  Croce  at  Florence,  and  all  the  great  Franciscan 
chiurches  which  we  admire  now,  were  as  definitely  false  to  the 
Saint's  spirit  as  was  the  Golden  Calf  to  the  Mosaic  Law.*  Art 
was  not  the  product  of  medieval  religion,  but  of  worldliness 
under  some  restraint  of  religion.  Many  details  of  church  carving 
are  too  licentious  to  be  photographed  or  modelled  ;  and  some  at 
least  of  our  most  beautiful  English  cathedrals  were  built  in  part 


352  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

from  the  fines  collected  from  unchaste  priests,  in  part  from  more 
questionable  sources  still.' 

The  last  and  most  potent  cause  of  modern  ignorance  of  the 
past  lies  in  the  dissatisfaction  which  many  feel  with  the  present 
world.  In  all  ages,  there  are  many  minds  of  the  type  so  familiar 
to  us  in  everyday  life ;  unsympathetic  to  the  family  or  the 
servants  with  whom  their  lot  is  immediately  cast,  and  spending 
all  their  tenderness  on  cats  or  dogs  or  foreign  missions.  In  its 
milder  forms,  most  men  feel  this  temptation  more  or  less  strongly  : 
and  many  who  can  see  no  good  in  the  flesh  and  blood  of  the  20th 
century  can  see  no  harm  in  the  ghosts  of  the  1 3th.  Yet  it  is  idle 
to  seek  God  in  a  corner  of  the  past,  while  we  reject  the  facts  of 
the  present.  To  find  only  poetry  in  distant  history,  only  prose 
in  our  own  age,  is  not  imagination  but  dulness  of  imagination : 
not  love  of  a  purer  ideal,  but  bat-like  blindness  to  the  broader 
light.  Every  spring-time  reminds  us  afresh  that  the  world  is 
eternally  young,  and  that  any  generation's  weary  complaints  of 
old  age  are  merely  ridiculous  to  posterity.  There  is  more  hope 
in  the  world  now,  and  more  of  the  buoyancy  of  youth,  than  600 
years  ago  when  Bernard  of  Morlaix  sang  dolefully  "  The  times 
are  waxing  late  .  .  .  The  judge  is  at  the  gate."  That  ideal  of 
a  fast-approaching  external  judgment  was  natural  enough  in 
days  when  men  feared  that  Christ  and  His  Saints  slept.  With  us, 
the  truer  ideal  is  that  of  a  present  and  perpetual  judgment  :  a 
world  in  which  God  asks  us  daily  :  "  Can  you  trace  My  finger 
everywhere  here,  or  can  you  only  find  the  Devil's  ? — Are  you 
seeking  among  your  living  fellow-men  for  My  kingdom,  or  are 
you  quarrelling  with  your  own  age,  and  whimpering  for  institutions 
which  had  not  enough  of  My  spirit  to  preserve  them  from  decay  ?  " 
It  is  easy — at  a  safe  distance  of  600  years — to  wax  sentimental 
over  a  dead  world  which  is  often  all  the  more  picturesque  to  us 
because  we  never  dream  of  living  there.  It  needs  a  truer  effort 
of  faith  and  charity  to  see  real  good  in  a  vulgar  fellow  at  the 
meeting-house  over  the  way,  who  daily  vexes  our  righteous  soul 
by  preaching  our  own  God  in  formulas  which  are  not  our  own. 
But  which  is  the  more  truly  Franciscan — to  chant  with  wearisome 
iteration  the  glories  of  those  past  Rolands  and  Olivers  of  the  faith, 
or  to  accept  modern  facts  and  make  the  best  of  them  ?  How, 
again,  shall  we  plead  Dante's  authority  for  a  policy  of  idle  regret  ? 
Thoroughly  as  he  mastered  the  religious  ideas  of  his  time,  he  has 
anticipated  enough  of  ours  to  assure  us  that  he  would  have  been 
no  mere  reactionary  if  his  lot  had  been  cast  with  us.  It  is  quite 
inconclusive  to  plead  his  passionate  attachment  to  the  Church  as 
he  knew  it  then  :  just  so  may  the  noblest  of  women,  and  the 


Conclusion.  353 

most  clear-sighted,  cling  to  some  incurably  drunken  husband. 
If,  again,  the  ideal  Church  of  his  vision  bore  a  close  resemblance 
to  the  real  Church  whose  decay  he  lamented,  so  also  a  good 
woman's  ideal  always  resembles  some  unworthier  object  in  the 
flesh.  Assuredly,  if  Dante  had  lived  in  the  age  of  modern 
discoveries,  he  would  no  more  have  neglected  science  than 
theology,  but  would  have  struggled  to  possess  the  future,  leaving 
the  dead  to  bury  their  dead. 

For  Dante  and  St.  Francis  are  great  only  as  they  anticipate  the 
world  that  is  to  be.  While  sharing  the  inevitable  belief  in  the 
decay  of  their  own  age — inevitable  then,  because  true  History 
was  impossible — they  rose  by  faith  high  above  the  pessimism  of 
their  contemporaries.  Such  too  is  the  real  greatness  of  their 
century,  beneath  the  purely  imaginary  virtues  with  which  it  is 
often  credited.  That  age  is  truly  great,  not  in  the  false  appearance 
of  monumental  completeness  which  it  presents  to  a  distant  eye, 
but  in  the  ferment  and  struggle  which  are  only  apparent  to  a  closer 
scrutiny.  We  are  often  told  to  admire  in  the  Middle  Ages  a 
pastoral  of  the  18th-century  pattern:  clean-washed  sheep  with 
pink  ribbons  round  their  necks  lying  in  the  tranquil  shade,  while  a 
shepherd,  in  pink  ribbons,  pipes  to  them  through  the  livelong 
day.     But  in  fact  they  felt  themselves  as  shepherdless  as  we  : 

"  A  thousand  of  men  tho  thmngen  togyderes, 
Criede  upward  to  Cryst  and  to  His  clene  Moder 
To  have  grace  to  go  with  hem,  treuthe  to  seke, 
Ac  there  was  wyghte  uon  so  wys,  the  way  thider  couthe, 
But  blustreden  forth  as  bestes,  over  bankes  and  hilles, 
Til  late  was  and  longe." 

(P.  Plowman.     B.  v.,  617). 

In  short,  they  struggled  and  suffered  manfully,  as  generation 
after  generation  has  done  after  them :  and  with  the  stripes  of 
these  our  ancestors  we  ourselves  are  healed,  if  we  will  only  accept 
their  experience.  Our  later  time  has  inherited  a  world  for  which 
the  Middle  Ages  groaned  and  travailed  in  pain  :  yet  half  our 
teachers  seem  to  spend  their  best  energies  in  trying  to  put  us  out 
of  patience  with  it.  In  our  fight  against  the  evil  of  our  own 
times,  often  discouraging  enough,  we  may  brace  ourselves  by 
pausing  for  a  moment  to  measure  the  world's  past  progress. 
There  is  no  fear  of  present  evils  and  defects  being  ignored  : 
poverty  and  crime,  luxury  and  levity,  force  themselves  only  too 
plainly  on  our  notice.  The  encompassing  hosts  of  wickedness  are 
as  visible  to  the  honest  Agnostic  on  one  side  as  to  the  honest 
Romanist  on  the  other.      But  the   progress  of  the  past  is  an 

A3 


354  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

earnest  of  far  greater  progress  in  the  future.  It  is  melancholy 
to  see  good  men  of  every  generation  spending  their  whole  energies 
in  daubing  the  bulging  bulwarks  of  the  old  world,  which  the  next 
generation  abandons  as  useless.  Meanwhile,  if  we  would  only 
look  steadily  upwards  instead  of  downwards,  we  should  see  how 
many  more  are  with  us  than  with  them  ; — how  truly  the  whole 
mountain  is  full  of  horses  and  chariots  of  fire  round  about  us. 


Appendix  A. 


NOTES  ON  THE  CHAPTERS. 


Chapter  I. 

1.  These  lacunse  existed  already  in  the  16th  century,  when  a  tran- 

script of  the.  Chronicle  was  made. 

2.  For  growth  of  luxury  see  Murat.  ix,  pp.  128  ff'  and  669 :   Ben. 

Im.  vol.  V,  p.  150  :  for  slaves  see  Biagi,  p.  333,  and  Wadding, 
1274,  p.  423. 

3.  Ps.  xliv,  3.     I  have  thought  it  best  to  give  nearly  all  the  Bible 

quotations  from  the  Douai  version,  as  more  exactly  representing 
the  Vulgate,  which  Salimbene  of  course  always  quotes.  The  page 
references  are  to  the  text  of  Salimbene  in  Mon.  Germ.  Hist. 
Scriptt.y  t.  xxxii.  In  some  cases,  however,  I  have  not  been  able 
to  secure  in  time  the  paged  sheets  of  this  standard  edition ;  in 
such  cases  I  give  the  year  under  which  Salimbene  records  the 
matter,  together  with  the  page  of  the  Parma  edition.  Thus  the 
reference  (1250-237)  will  enable  the  reader  to  verify  my  quota- 
tion on  p.  237  in  the  Parma  edition,  or  under  the  year  1250  in 
either  edition.  Whether  the  whole  of  the  Chronicle  was  written 
for  Sister  Agnes  has  been  questioned  by  Father  Michael,  who 
however  gives  no  very  cogent  reasons  for  his  doubt.  Certainly 
Salimbene's  freedom  of  speech  supplies  no  proof  that  it  was  not 
written  for  a  nun  :  see  chap,  iii,  note  7. 

4.  Michael,  p.  2. 

6.  e.g.  The  early  history  of  the  city  and  diocese  of  Toumai,  in  the 
Corpus  Ckronicorum  Flandrice,  1841,  t.  ii,  pp.  480  following. 
Similarly,  Abbot  Guibert  of  Nogent  tells  how  he  has  been 
pestered  to  deliver  imaginary  panegyrics  on  unknown  saints : 
and  his  words  imply  that  such  requests  were  frequent  and  diffi- 
ciilt  to  refuse.  (Migne.  Pat.  Lat.,  vol.  clvi,  p.  624).  When, 
in  1282,  a  general  chapter  of  the  Franciscans  was  held  at  Strass- 
burg,  "  the  Minister-General enjoined  Brother  Philip, 


356  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

minister  of  Tuscany,  to  enquire  diligently,  if  perchance  he  could 
find  the  day  and  hour  on  which  the  stigmata  of  Jesus  Christ 
were  imprinted  on  St.  Francis'  body.  So  he  found  a  lay-brother, 
perfect  in  all  virtues,  to  whom  had  been  vouchsafed  many  reve- 
lations directly  from  St.  Francis,  to  the  effect  that  on  the  day  of 
the  Exaltation  of  the  Holy  Cross  ....  the  Lord  Jesus  ....  im- 
printed on  him  those  marvellous  wounds."     (24  Qen.,  p.  374). 

6.  Occasional  Papers.     Vol.  i,  p.  87  (Macmillan,  1897). 

7.  She  speaks  of  Cantarelli's  as  "an  Italian  version,  for  which  it  is 

difficult  to  say  one  good  word  "  (p.  60) :  yet,  where  Salimbene 
has  Rex  Hyrtacus,  and  Cantarelli's  Italian  has  naturally  U 
Rege  Irtaco,  Miss  Macdonell  mistranslates  this  as  "  King  of 
Ithaca  "  (p.  259) ;  and  by  a  similar  misunderstanding  of  Italian 
she  converts  Salimbene's  swineherds  into  svnne.  There  are  very 
many  other  such  mistakes,  often  small  in  themselves,  but  going 
far  to  explain  Miss  Macdonell's  under-estimate  of  Salimbene's 
value  as  a  serious  historian. 

For  a  conspectus  of  all  that  is  at  present  known  about  Salim- 
bene we  must  await  Prof.  Holder-Egger's  introduction  :  but 
meanwhile  a  very  good  bibliography  may  be  gathered  from  Prof. 
Michael's  Salimbene  und  seine  Chronik"  (Innsbruck,  1889),  pp. 
1-5  and  87-94.  The  author,  though  his  theological  bias  is  obvious 
and  natural,  subordinates  it  generally  to  the  interests  of  historical 
truth.  His  book  shows  a  truly  German  industry  and  mastery 
of  detail,  though  it  is  interesting  to  an  Englishman  to  mark  the 
natural  limits  of  a  Jesuit  professor's  familiarity  with  the  Bible 
text.  On  page  123  he  quotes  the  similes  of  the  she-bear  robbed 
of  her  whelps,  and  the  eagle  that  hasteneth  to  the  prey,  as  speci- 
mens of  Salimbene's  picturesque  phrases  :  the  context  shows  that 
he  has  no  suspicion  of  their  Biblical  origin. 


Chapter  II. 

1 .  Cses.  Heist,  dist.  x,  cap.  99.     Bert.  Rat.  Pred.  I,  402. 

2.  Vine.  Bell.  Spec.  Doct.  x,   12.      Northumberland  Assize  Rolls 

(Surtees  Soc,  vol.  88),  p.  341.  L.  Gautier,  La  Chevalerie,  pp. 
342-9;  A.  Schulz,  Hofisches  Leben,  vol.  ii,  p.  163  j  La  Tour, 
chaps.  17-19 ;  Bern.  Sen.  Pred.  II,  103,  115  ;  Pipinus  in  Murat, 
ix,  647 ;  Bourbon,  p.  241  (where  the  editor  misses  much  of  the 
point  of  the  story  by  referring  Imperator  quondam  to  Barbarossa, 
not  realizing  that  this  was  the  stereotyped  phrase  applied  to 
Frederick  II  by  good  churchmen  after  the  sentence  of  deposition 
pronounced  on  him  by  Innocent  IV  in  1245) ;  Ben.  Im.,  vol.  v, 


Appendix  A.  357 

p.  150  ;  Arte,  p.  74.  The  statutes  of  medieval  towns  often 
yield  very  interesting  evidence.  Those  of  Castellarquato,  near 
Piacenza  (about  1350  a.d.  ;  pub.  1876,  p.  179  fF),  give  a  tariff 
of  fines  for  defamatory  language  or  assaults.  The  former  list 
varies  from  20  pence  for  calling  another  Tapeworm  !  through  a 
rising  gradation  of  Cagasangue  !  and  similar  picturesque  epithets, 
to  £10  imperial  for  Forger!  or  Traitor!  Pulling  the  hair  or 
scratching,  if  without  effusion  of  blood,  cost  £,\  ;  with  blood, 
JB2,  unless  the  assault  were  committed  "  by  way  of  correction," 
in  which  case  it  was  condoned  altogether.  Biting  was  assessed 
at  £2  10s.  without  blood,  and  £5  with  blood.  An  assault  with- 
out arms,  if  it  drew  blood  from  the  victim's  body,  cost  £10;  if 
from  his  face,  £15.  With  arms  and  blood,  the  tariff  was  £20 
per  wound  inflicted,  pltis  the  doctor's  bill.  To  throw  a  stone 
and  miss  cost  £1  ;  the  too  successful  marksman  must,  however, 
pay  £10,  or,  if  the  missile  struck  his  victim's  face,  £20.  This 
elaborate  tariff  (of  which  I  have  given  only  brief  specimens)  was, 
however,  inapplicable  to  **  ribalds,  prostitutes,  or  vile  and  abject 
persons,"  who  were  to  be  fined  or  punished  at  the  judge's  dis- 
cretion. Other  equally  interesting  tariffs  at  medieval  universities 
may  be  found  in  Rashdall,  vol.  ii,  pp.  415,  614.  As  the  example 
of  Cianghella  may  suggest,  the  idea  of  self-control  even  in  church 
was  foreign  to  the  mass  of  the  people.  Bishop  Quivil  of  Exeter 
complains,  in  his  Synod  of  1287,  that  the  services  were  often 
scandalously  interrupted  by  two  or  three  parishioners  scuffling 
for  the  same  seat;  Chaucer  twice  alludes  to  similar  quarrels 
of  women  for  precedence  or  salutes  in  church  ;  and  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  quote  St.  Bernardino  to  the  same  effect  (Wilkins 
Concil,  vol.  ii,  p.  139,  Cant.  Tales,  Prol.  450  and  B.  3091).  The 
scuffle  of  the  two  Archbishops  for  precedence  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  York  finally  sitting  on  Canterbury's  lap,  and  getting  his 
clothes  torn  almost  off  his  back,  is  only  one  of  a  dozen  similar 
instances  which  might  be  quoted  (Gervase  of  Canterbury,  R.S., 
vol.  i,  p.  258).  The  Bishops'  registers  are  full  of  solemn  "  recon- 
ciliations" of  churches  and  churchyards  polluted  by  bloodshed 
in  brawls. 

3.  The  14th-century  commentator,  Benvenuto  da  Imola,  speaks  as  if 

this  boyish  vandalism  were  quite  common — quite  apart  from  the 
pleasure  which  older  ruffians  found  in  destroying  churches  or 
palaces  in  war-time  (vol.  i,  pp.  115,  461). 

4.  For  this,  "  the  earliest  of  all  the  poets  of  Northern  Italy  known 

to  us,"  see  Gaspary's  Hist,  of  Early  Italian  Literature.  Salim- 
bene  frequently  quotes  him,  and  paid  him  the  compliment  of  an 
imitation,  as  he  tells  us  (464). 

5.  Bert.  Rat.  Pred.,  vol.  i,  p.  89,  and  ii,  206. 


358  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Chapteb  III. 

1.  For  Leo  see  Fleury,  an.  1240,  xxxiv,  and  1267,  liii. 

2.  For  Gerard  of  Modena,  see  Wadding,  1244,  p.  109,  and  1251, 

p.  277.  Bartholomew  of  Vicenza  seems,  like  his  fellow-towns- 
man John,  to  have  had  two  sides  to  his  character.  Prof.  Holder- 
Egger  points  out  (p.  74,  note  1)  that  he  is  almost  certainly  the 
friar  who  was  chosen  in  1231  to  arbitrate  between  Genoa  and 
Alessandria,  but  who  disgraced  his  oflSce  by  falsifications  and  in- 
terpolations of  documents. 

3.  "  Et  Johannes  johannizat 

Et  saltando  choreizat. 
Modo  salta,  modo  salta. 
Qui  celorum  petis  alta  ! 
Sal  tat  iste,  sal  tat  ille, 
Resaltant  cohortes  mille, 
Saltat  chorus  dominarum, 
Saltat  dux  Venetiarum,  <fec." 

4.  For  this  satire,  and  Guido  Bonatti's  testimony,  see  Prof.  Holder- 

Egger's  notes,  pp.  77,  78. 

6.  For  a  more  orthodox  explanation  of  the  delay  in  St.  Dominic's 
canonization,  see  p.  30  of  the  works  of  his  successor,  Jordan  of 
Saxony  (Ed.  Berthier,  Fribourg,  1891). 

6.  The  story  of  the  philosopher  Secundus  may  be  found  in  Vincent 

of  Beauvais,  Spec.  Hist,  x,  70.  Though  designed  to  point  a  moral 
in  its  time,  it  again  is  scarcely  suitable  for  modern  print. 

7.  Cf.  Archiv,  iii,  458,  for  a  decree  of  the  general  chapter  of  Terni 

forbidding  friars  to  have  obscene  books  in  their  possession.  A 
similar  prohibition  of  cantilence  lasdvce  may  be  found  in  the 
Franciscan  Constitutions  of  1290,  edited  by  Prof.  Little.  (Eng. 
Hist.  Review,  July,  1903,  p.  493.)  Similarly,  in  his  instructions 
to  preachers,  Cardinal  Jacques  de  Vitry  finds  it  necessary  to  re- 
cord the  warning,  "  scurrilia  tamen  aut  obscena  verba  vel  turpis 
sermo  ex  ore  predicatoris  non  procedant"  (Vit.  Serm.  p.  xliii, 
note).  To  realize  how  much  need  there  was  for  this  admonition, 
the  reader  should  refer  to  A.  M6ray,  "  La  Vie  aux  Temps  des 
Libres  PrScheurs,"  vol.  ii,  pp.  143  ff,  243.  It  is  a  book  which 
must  often  be  used  with  caution  for  historical  purposes :  but  the 
quotations  on  those  pages  tell  their  own  tale.  Gerson  complained 
of  the  obscene  talk  of  university  professors,  by  which  their  pupils 
were   corrupted   (ii,    763).      The   manners  of   ordinary  society 


Appendix  A.  359 

in  this  respect  are  clearly  shown  by  Chaucer :  but,  in  view  of 
attempts  often  made  to  avoid  the  natural  inferences  from  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  add  further  references 
here.  The  licence  allowed  in  society  games  may  be  inferred  from 
a  "  Ragman  Roll,"  printed  in  Wright  and  Halli well's  Reliquio! 
A  ntiquce,  and  from  the  fact  that  medieval  moralists  and  preachers 
condemn  dancing  with  practical  or  literal  unanimity,  and  fre- 
quently even  attendance  at  weddings.  The  book  of  the  Knight  of 
La  Tour  Landry  shows  how  a  particularly  careful  nobleman  talked 
to  his  daughters  :  next  to  this  book,  there  is  perhaps  no  document 
so  significant  of  medieval  manners  in  this  respect  as  the  sermons 
which  St.  Bernardino  delivered  in  the  great  square  of  Siena,  and  to 
which  he  expressly  asked  the  mothers  to  bring  their  daughters. 
{Prediche,  vol.  ii,  nos.  xix-xxii ;  especially  pp.  98,  108,  110,  132, 
135,  137,  138,  140,  142,  143,  149,  150,  167-172.)  Yet  that 
even  this  licence  of  speech  was  insignificant  compared  with  that 
which  the  manners  of  the  time  often  permitted,  may  be  gathered 
plainly  from  the  horror  with  which  he  describes  the  common 
sins  of  14th  century  society  in  this  respect.  {Opera,  vol.  iii, 
p.  3676.)  We  get  similar  evidence  from  Sir  Thomas  More,  as  I 
have  pointed  out  in  Med.  Studies,  no.  6  ;  and  from  one  of  the 
early  chapters  in  Raimondo  da  Vigna's  "Life  of  St.  Catherine 
of  Siena." 

8.  Compare  this  reference  to  Guido  with  what  Salimbene  says  of  him 

later  on,  in  the  chapter  which  I  have  entitled  "Settling  Down." 

9.  Guibert  is  specially  concerned  to  combat  the  error  of  the  monks  of 

St.  M^dard  at  Soissons,  who  boasted  the  possession  of  one  of  our 
Lord's  milk-teeth,  fallen  out  in  the  course  of  nature  when  He 
was  nine  years  old.  Incidentally  he  refers  to  those  who  prided 
themselves  on  still  stranger  relics — umbilicum  et  praeputium 
Domini.  Even  Innocent  III  treated  these  relics  seriously  (Be 
Sacro  Alta)-ts  Mysterio,  Lib.  iv,  c.  30),  discussed  the  claims  of  two 
rival  prseputia,  and  summed  up  (very  nearly  in  the  words  of  Sir 
John  Maundeville),  "  yet  it  is  better  to  commit  all  to  God  than 
to  define  rashly  either  way."*  The  encyclopsedic  learning  of  the 
late  Father  Denifle,  sub-librarian  of  the  Vatican,  has  unearthed 
no  less  than  seven  churches  which  claimed  this  strange  relic 
[Desolation  des  Eglises),  vol.  i,  p.  167  :  {cf.  J.  B.  Thiers,  Traite 
des  Superstitions,  Avignon,  1777,  p.  365,  from  whom  it  appears 

*  The  plea  that  all  these  duplicate  relics  were  really  fragments  of  one  genuine 
relic  is,  I  believe,  quite  modem,  beginning  with  Wadding  and  other  17th  century 
scholars  whose  bias  was  definitely  apologetic.  In  many  cases  the  plea  is  demon- 
strably false,  for  difTerent  churches  claimed  the  relic  in  iU  entirety.  Mr.  J.  C. 
Wall  ("  Shrines  of  British  Sainta,"  p.  9)  writes  in  a  very  misleading  fashion  on 
this  subject. 


360  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

that  it  had  a  Mass  of  its  own).  Guibert,  bolder  and  more  logical 
than  the  great  Pope,  decides  that,  if  we  are  to  believe  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  body,  we  cannot  suppose  the  risen  Christ  to 
have  left  a  tooth  or  any  other  such  relic  on  earth  (col.  631).  The 
monks  of  Soissons,  he  concludes,  can  therefore  only  be  absolved 
from  heresy  on  the  charitable  supposition  that  they  are  liars : 
nor  can  he  admit  that  the  alleged  miracles  aiford  any  valid  proof 
of  the  relic's  authenticity.  As  a  somewhat  earlier  chronicler 
puts  it  "  miracles  are  sometimes  wrought  by  evil  spirits,  by  God's 
permission  and  as  a  punishment  for  men's  sins."  (Rodulfi  Glabri 
Monachi  Cluniacensis  Hist.  lib.  iv,  c.  3.)  Guibert's  treatise 
should  be  read  in  its  entirety :  but  the  following  extracts  will 
give  some  idea  of  the  attitude  of  a  very  distinguished  scholar 
and  churchman  in  St.  Bernard's  generation  towards  popular 
beliefs  (col.  621).  "  A  certain  most  famous  church  (he  is  proba- 
bly speaking  of  Laon  Cathedral)  was  sending  round  wandering 
collectors  of  this  kind,  and  had  employed  a  preacher  to  beg 
money  for  its  restoration.  This  man,  swelling  beyond  all 
measure  in  his  sermon  over  the  relics  which  he  bore,  brought 
forth  a  casket  in  my  presence.  '  Know  ye,'  said  he  [to  the  con- 
gregation], '  that  this  casket  contains  some  of  the  bread  which 
our  Lord  pressed  with  His  own  teeth  :  and,  if  ye  are  slow  to  be- 
lieve, behold  this  illustrious  man '  (for  thus  he  spake  of  me)  '  of 
whose  great  learning  ye  yourselves  are  witnesses,  and  who  will 
rise  up,  if  need  be,  as  a  witness  to  the  truth  of  my  words.'  I 
confess  that  I  blushed  to  hear  this :  and  (but  that  1  feared  in 
the  presence  of  those  at  whose  prompting  he  spake,  lest  I  should 
offend  them  even  more  than  the  speaker  himself),*  I  should  have 
exposed  the  fraud.  What  shall  I  say  1  not  even  monks — let 
alone  the  secular  clergy — abstain  from  such  filthy  lucre,  or  shrink 
from  speaking  heresies  on  matters  of  our  faith  even  in  my 
presence.  [And  I  must  be  silent]  for,  as  Boethius  said  *I  should 
be  rightly  condemned  as  a  madman  if  I  were  to  dispute  with 
madmen.'  "  As  Guibert  says  in  another  place  (624)  "There  are 
things  written  about  some  saints  which  are  much  worse  than  old 
wives'  fables,  and  unfit  even  for  the  ears  of  cowherds."  While 
the  clergy  hold  their  tongues,  old  women  and  ignorant  hussies 
sing  these  legendary  saints'  lives,  and  will  attack  the  rash 
sceptic  not  only  with  abuse  but  with  their  distaffs  (622).  Men 
are  put  as  saints  under  the  altars  who,  living,  were  scarcely  fit 
to  come  into  the  sanctuary  (615)  :  villages  and  little  towns 
••  daily  "  invent  saints  of  their  own  to  rival  the  St.  Martins  and 
St.  R^mis  of  the  great  churches  :  and  Guibert  quotes  in  this  con- 
text, I  Sam.,  xvii,  29,  "Each  nation  made  its  own  God"  (622). 

*  The  text  of  this  parenthesis  seems  corrupt  in  parts,  but  its  general  sense  ia 
obvious. 


Appendix  A.  361 

He  illustrates  this  manufacture  of  relics  from  his  own  experience 
(625).  "  Those  who  worship  they  know  not  what,  even  though 
it  be  in  fact  a  holy  relic,  are  yet  never  free  from  great  danger. 
If  on  the  contrary  it  be  no  relic  at  all,  then  they  live  in  most 
terrible  sacrilege  :  for  what  could  be  more  sacrilegious  than  to 

worship  as  divine  that  which  is  not  divine  1 Hear  a  tale 

which  may  explain  my  complaints  and  show  the  truth  of  what  I 
have  advanced.  Odo,  bishop  of  Bayeux,  natural  son  to  Robert 
count  of  Normandy,  and  blood-brother  to  William  the  First  of 
England,  eagerly  sought  the  body  of  St.  Exuperins  his  prede- 
cessor, who  is  worshipped  with  the  utmost  reverence  in  the  town 
of  Corbeil.  He  paid,  therefore,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds 
to  the  sacristan  of  the  church  which  possessed  these  relics,  that 
he  might  take  them  for  himself.  But  the  sacristan  cunningly 
dug  up  the  bones  of  a  peasant  named  Exuperius,  and  brought 
them  to  the  bishop.  The  bishop,  not  content  with  his  mere 
assertion,  exacted  from  him  an  oath  that  these  bones  which  he 
brought  were  those  of  Saint  Exuperius.  '  I  swear,'  replied  the 
man,  '  that  these  are  the  bones  of  Exuperius :  as  to  his  sanctity 
I  cannot  swear,  since  many  earn  the  title  of  saints  who  are  far 
indeed  from  holiness.'  Thus  the  thief  assuaged  the  bishop's  sus- 
picions and  set  his  mind  at  rest See  now  what  disgrace 

this  bishop's  bargain  brought  upon  religion,  when  the  bones  of 
this  profane  peasant  Exuperius  were  thrust  into  God's  holy  altar, 
which  perchance  will  never  more  be  purged  of  them.  I  can  re- 
call so  many  like  deeds  in  all  parts  that  I  lack  time  and  strength 
to  tell  them  here ;  for  fraudulent  bargains  are  made,  not  so  much 
in  whole  bodies  as  in  limbs,  common  bones  being  sold  as  relics 

of  the  saints " 

Compare  this  with  a  parallel  passage  from  Cardinal  Jacques 
de  Vitry  about  1220  {Hist.  Occ,  c.  10).  After  a  vivid  des- 
cription of  the  traflSc  in  false  relics  and  indulgences,  the  blackmail 
exacted  by  preachers  for  ill-gotten  gains,  and  the  drunkenness  and 
debauchery  in  which  much  of  the  money  thus  extorted  from  the 
laity  was  spent,  the  Cardinal  goes  on  :  *'  Those  who  send  these 
aforesaid  filthy  and  blasphemous  fellows  to  preach  for  the 
building  of  their  churches,  and  the  bishops  who  grant  them  their 
letters  of  authorization,  shall  give  account  to  the  strict  judge  for 
all  their  perverse  deeds."  While  the  minds  of  the  faithful 
were  thus  poisoned  by  the  habit  of  revering  false  relics  and  false 
miracles,  the  belief  was  commonly  exploited  to  their  own  sinister 
purposes  by  rascals  even  in  the  highest  ecclesiastical  circles. 
There  is  a  typical  instance  from  the  Winchester  annals  {Annales 
Mcmastici,  R.S.  ii,  100,  a.d.  1262).  The  prior  of  St.  Swithun's 
was  imprisoned  for  his  sins,  and,  escaping  by  fraud,  said  that  St. 
Thomas  of  Canterbury  had  set  him  free  by  a  miracle  :  in  token 
whereof  he  hung  bis   chains   at  the  Canterbury  shrine   "pro- 


362  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

ludibrio,  ne  dicam  pro  miraculo,"  remarks  the  indignant  chronicler 
of  the  monastery. 

The  Papal  I/etter  referred  to  in  the  text  may  be  found  in 
Baynaldus,  Ann.  Ecc,  an.  1238,  §  33 :  cf.  Caes.  Heist.,  dist.  ii, 
c.  24  :  Thos.  Cant.  II,  xxvi,  7,  8.  The  latter  writes  :  "  I 
remember  what  I  once  heard  from  a  very  simple-minded  lay- 
man at  Cambrai.  Certain  monks  had  made  him  a  solemn 
promise  which  they  had  not  kept :  so,  not  seeing  how  else  he 
could  excuse  them,  he  said,  'Those  men  break  their  promise 
to  me  by  a  daily  lie;  but  I  believe  that  they  lie  by  leave 
of  their  Abbot.'  This  is  still  remembered  as  a  proverb  in  those 
parts  where  some  monk  fails  to  tell  the  truth  :  '  Let  him  alone,' ' 
men  say,  *  for  he  lies  by  his  Abbot's  leave.'  "  Thomas  blames  their 
habit  of  excusing  such  falsehoods  by  the  example  of  Abraham, 
Sarah,  Isaac,  and  other  patriarchs.  The  fraud  which  he  relates 
with  approval  may  be  found  in  II,  xxv,  13. 

With  regard  to  the  case  of  St.  Francis,  see  Sabatier,  Vie  de 
St.  F.,  pp.  64,  65 :  Knox-Little,  Sl  Francis,  p.  94.  The  Three 
Companions  say  (chap,  vi),  "  restore  [to  thy  father]  the  money 
which  thou  hast ;  for,  since  it  is  percJiance  ill-gotten,  God  willeth 
not  that  thou  pay  it  to  Church  uses."  Thomas  of  Celano,  Leg. 
Antiq.  (Ed.  Hosedale,  p.  14):  "He  restored  the  money  to  his 
father  ...  at  the  persuasion  of  the  Bishop,  a  most  pious  man, 
for  the  reason  that  it  was  unlawful  to  expend  anything  ill-gotten 
on  pious  uses  (eo  quod  non  liceret  de  male  acquisitis  aliquid  in 
sacros  usus  expendere)."  Nowhere  do  the  early  authorities,  I 
believe,  claim  that  the  horse  and  cloth  sold  at  Foligno  were  the 
saint's  own  :  they  simply  say,  venditis  .  .  .  quae  porta verat  (or 
portabat).  For  admitted  "pious  thefts,"  see  Wadding,  1242,  p. 
80;  1252,  p.  281;  1297,  p.  359;  and  Ana.  Fra.  iii,  164,  425, 
651. 

10.  Dav.  Aug.,  p.  357. 

11.  This  book  is  now  lost. 

12.  These  two  sermons  on  Antichrist  have  been  edited  by  Schbnbach, 

"Studien  zur  Geschichte  der  altdeutschen  Predigt,"  IV.  For 
information  as  to  the  preacher  see  E.  Bernhardt  "  Bruder  Ber- 
thold  V.  Eegensburg."     (Erfurt,  1905). 

13.  The   vivid   impression    made    by    Berthold's    sermons    may   be 

realized,  even  through  legendary  exaggerations,  from  an  anecdote 
quoted  from  an  anonymous  chronicler  in  Pfeiffer's  edition  of 
Sermons  (vol.  i,  p.  xxi),  and  recorded  in  the  Chronicle  of  the 
24  Generals,  p.  238.  "  Once  when  he  was  preaching  against 
the  vice  of  lechery,  a  certain  prostitute  who  heard  him  was 
smitten  with  such  pain  by  the  arrow  of  his  word,  shot  from  so 


Appendix  A.  363 

valiant  and  direct  a  bow,  that  she  gave  up  the  ghost."  Berthold 
prayed  her  back  to  life  :  "  And  among  other  things  she  revealed 
how  in  that  same  hour  wherein  she  died  60,000  men  were  called 
from  life  in  divers  parts  of  the  world ;  of  whom  three  only 
entered  purgatory.  The  rest  were  plunged  into  hell,  all  but  one 
Friar  Minor,  who  passed  through  Purgatory  and,  suddenly 
taking  with  him  two  souls  which  had  confessed  to  him,  went  up 
with  them  to  Paradise." 

14.  The  version  of  this  story  given  by  Wadding  explains  that 
Berthold  had  Papal  authority  to  grant  several  days'  Indulgence 
to  his  listeners  at  every  sermon,  and  that  on  this  occasion  he 
had  granted  one  of  ten  days. 

16,  Berthold  was  exceeding  his  powers  in  admitting  a  new  member 
into  the  Order ;  but  he  hoped  that  the  General  would  ratify  his 
decision. 

16.  This  address  to  a  single  definite  reader,  who  knew  Bologna,  adds 
to  the  probability  that  our  chronicler  is  here  thinking  of  his 
niece. 


Chapter  IV. 

1 .  Michael,  p.  70  :  but  cf .  Carmina  Burana  (Ed.  Schmeller,  Breslau, 

1883),  p.  71.  For  Primas  see  Cses.  Heist.  Dist.  ii,  c.  15;  Boc- 
caccio's Decameron,  G.  i,  n.  7,  and  the  references  given  by  Prof. 
Holder-Egger,  p.  83,  note.  For  Feast  of  Fools,  Gerson,  vol.  ii, 
pp.  655a,  636d,  641c;  Od.  Rig.,  pp.  44,  384,  472.  Sacchetti. 
Serm.  p.  22.  For  the  transitory  nature  of  these  Revivals,  see 
Murat.,  vol.  ix,  p.  65,  and  xxiii,  839. 

2.  Ecc.  i,  15,  Vulg.     This  text  was  a  great  favourite  with  medieval 

moralists,  whose  pale  ghosts  must  have  rejoiced  far  more  to  wel- 
come Carlyle's  disembodied  spirit  than  Wordsworth's. 

3.  Obizzo  ii  :  see  Dante,  Inf.  xiii,  110. 

4.  Bacon,  ed.  Brewer,  R.  S.,  p.  426 — Rashdall,  vol.  ii,  p.  385 — Jac. 

de  Yaragine  in  Murat,  vol.  ix,  p.  46. 

5.  Miss  Macdonell  (p.  263)  is  misled  by  Cantarelli's  translation  into 

imagining  that  the  friars  only  promised  him  an  excellent  meal 
this  evening,  and  actually  gave  him  cabbages :  thus  missing  the 
whole  point  of  the  story.  This  supper  in  the  infirmary  before 
his  admission  was  in  fact  excellent ;  only,  when  once  he  was  ad- 


364  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

mitted,  he  must  needs  eat  cabbages  at  his  daily  meals  in  the 
refectory,  like  the  rest  of  the  Brethren. 

6.  "  Milvus  ait  pullo,  dum  portaretur  ab  illo,  cum  pi  pi  faris,  non  te 

tenet  ungula  talis." 

7.  "  Homini  avari,  e  pien  d'ogni  empietate, 

Che  lor  par  proprio  ire  in  paradise 
Quando  hanno  il  figlio  dal  padre  diviso  ! " 

•  (Drama  of  14th  or  15th  century,  quoted  in  D'Ancona,  Origini 
del  Teatro,  etc.,  vol.  i,  p.  189).  Bern.  Bess.,  pp.  297,  399. 
Salimbene,  as  his  own  artless  revelations  often  show,  would  have 
learnt  more  easily  than  most  otherwise  amiable  boys  that  renun- 
ciation of  home  ties  which  has  always  been  preached  as  one  of 
the  first  duties  of  a  Religious.  As  the  Mirror  of  Monks  puts  it 
(a  treatise  often  printed  among  St.  Bernard's  works),  "  the  Re- 
ligious should  be  like  Melchizedek,  without  father,  without 
mother,  without  genealogy."  Again,  Brother  Giles,  paraphrasing 
Luke  xiv,  26  after  his  own  hyperbolical  fashion,  advised  the  in- 
tending postulant  to  "go  forthwith  and  slay  his  parents,  his 
brothers,  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins"  (24  Gen.,  p.  92  :  cf.  98). 
Though  we  may  scarcely  need  Prof.  Holder- Egger's  warning  that 
the  man's  account  of  the  boy's  ever-ready  Biblical  quotations  are 
not  to  be  taken  too  literally,  it  transpires  plainly  enough  from  this 
and  other  episodes  that  Salimbene,  if  he  did  not  slay  his  father 
and  mother,  at  least  did  not  strive  officiously  to  keep  them  alive. 

8.  This  is  the  Illuminato  of  Dante,  Par.  xii,  130. 

9.  The  actual  word  here  used  by  Guido,  though  unfamiliar  to  polite 

English  ears,  is  said  to  be  still  commonly  used  in  Italy  as  a  term 
of  abuse  for  monks  and  friars. 


Chapter  V. 

1.  There  was,  nevertheless,  another  Br.  Ognibene  in  the  Order  at  the 

same  time  as  our  chronicler.  He  is  mentioned  by  Eccleston  (p. 
59)  as  the  Companion  of  Albert  of  Pisa  in  England. 

2.  This  description  is  strikingly  like  the  fresco  of  the  vocation  of  S. 

Ranieri  in  the  Campo  Santo  of  Pisa.  Salimbene  could  not  of 
course  have  seen  that  actual  painting ;  but  his  imagination  might 
well  have  been  struck  by  the  story,  which  may  be  read  in  the 
Acta  Sanctorum,  or  in  the  old  Italian  translation  of  Benincasa's 
Life  of  S.  Ranieri,  published  at  Pisa  in  1842. 


Appendix  A.  2^S 

3.  ^.g.,  the  story  (recorded  in  Vincent  of  Beauvais  and  the  Golden 

Legend)  how  St.  John  the  Evangelist  turned  pebbles  into  gems 
and  sticks  into  gold  (p.  46)  :  again,  stories  from  St.  Gregory's 
Dialogues  and  (nominally  at  least)  from  the  Vitae  Patrum.  The 
Bible  misquotation  is  p.  51,  line  43  :  God  in  the  third  person, 
p.  52,  11.  39,  40.  Prof.  Holder-Egger  assumes  that  Christ's 
speech  must  have  ended  somewhere  before  this,  but  there  is  no 
such  indication  in  the  text ;  and  the  simplest  explanation  seems 
to  be  that  our  good  friar  had  become  thoroughly  muddled  with 
his  own  arguments. 

4.  JJist.  Occ,  p.  349  :  the  s'etaient  crus  of  Sabatier,  Vie  de  St.  F.,  p. 

cxxiii,  is  distinctly  misleading. 

5.  Matt.  Paris  an.  1244  (p.  558),  and  1250  (695),  1252  (731).— Mon. 

Franc,  pp.  86,  90,  96,  101,  105,  213  and  passim — Browne 
Fasc.  ii,  251.  Cf.  Grosseteste.  Epistolse.  R.S.,  pp.  434,  440 — 
A  A.  SS.  Oct.  iv,  712 — Bonaventura  Qusestio  ii,  circa  Regulam 
— Vine.  Bell.  Spec.  Doct.,  lib.  ii,  dist.  ii,  pars  2  :  Spec.  Hist.  lib. 
XXX,  c.  107— Qu6tif-Echard.  Scriptt  O.  P.  i,  25,  notes  A2  and 
B.— Vit."  Frat.  cap.  I,  §  ii,  iii,— Thos.  Cant.,  pp.  253  (lib.  ii, 
c.  37).  AA.  SS.  Ap.  Ill,  prologus  primus  in  vitam  S.  Cath. 
Senensis,  sect,  iii  and  iv. 

6.  Archiv.,  vol.  iii,  p.  453. 

7.  Bacon  ed.  Brewer,  RS.,  pp.  24,  30,  33,  38,  398—404,  426,  475. 

8.  See  an  article  by  the  present  writer  in  the  Independent  Review  for 

June,  1905,  reprinted  as  No.  5  of  Medieval  Studies.  (Simpkin, 
Marshall  &  Co.,  6d.) 

9.  Gerson,  vol.  i,  p.  201a,  vol.  ii,  pp.  55of,  649b,  712a..    The  Church, 

he  says,  is  as  though  smitten  with  an  incurable  disease,  and 
remedies  do  but  make  her  worse.  Compare  the  striking  anecdote 
told  by  Salimbene's  contemporary,  Etienne  de  Bourbon  (p.  217). 
Etienne  had  been  informed  by  Petrus  Hispanus — apparently  not 
Dante's  pope  of  that  name,  but  a  fellow-friar — how  a  holy  man 
watching  in  prayer  saw  a  vision  of  a  fair  lady  who  announced 
herself  to  be  that  Holy  Church  on  whose  behalf  the  devotee 
uttered  so  many  groans  and  prayers.  "And  then  she  took  off 
the  resplendent  crown  which  she  wore  and  bowed  her  head  to- 
wards him.  And  he  saw  the  crown  of  the  head  cleft  crosswise 
in  four  parts,  and  vermin  bubbling  forth  from  her  brain,  and  her 
wounds  reeking  with  corrupted  blood  in  all  four  quarters. 
*  Behold  ! '  said  she  :  *  from  what  thou  canst  see  of  my  head  thou 
mayst  now  understand  my  corruption  and  pain  in  the  rest  of  my 
limbs."  A  strikingly  similar  vision  of  the  Franciscan  Order 
smitten  with  leprosy  is  recorded  in  Angelo  Clareno's  Seven  Tribu- 


366  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

lotions — but,  indeed,  it  would  be  easy  to  fill  a  whole  book  of  this 
size  with  similar  complaints  from  orthodox  medieval  churchmen. 

10.  We  may  gather  from  frequent  allusions  in  inquest  and  assize  rolls 
that  many  houses  in  the  towns  of  the  13th  century  were  built  of 
wattle  and  clay.  The  burglar's  line  of  least  resistance  was  often 
not  a  door  or  a  window,  but  a  more  or  less  decayed  portion  of 


the  house  wall. 


Chapter  VI. 


1.  Independent  Review,  Feb.,  1905.    Contemporary  Review,  Aug.,  1905 

(reprinted  as  Medieval  Studies,  nos.  3  and  4). 

2.  Newman's  Letters,  Ed.  Mozley  (1891),  vol.  ii,  p.  481  :  cf.  Ana. 

Fra.  vol.  iii,  pp.  118,  269,  360  and  passim.  Wadding,  an.  1246, 
p.  158  :  1261,  p.  178  :  1277,  p.  22  :  Eubel.  Prov.  passim. 

3.  For  puritanism  in  architectui'e  see  Eccleston,  col.  vii ;  Archiv.  vi, 

pp.  34-36,  70;  Ana.  Fra.  ii,  123;  Wadding,  an.  1242,  p.  17; 
Actus  S.  Francisci  ed.  Sabatier,  p.  203 ;  D.  Bernard!  Ep.  ad 
Guil.  Abbatem,  cap.  xii. — For  music  Dav.  Aug.,  p.  28  :  R. 
Bacon  ed.  Brewer,  R.S.,  p.  297 ;  Archiv.  vi,  p.  70  ;  Wadding, 
an.  1250,  p.  241.— For  vandalism  Od.  Rig.,  pp.  426,  572  : 
Sacchetti  Serm.  vii :  Frati,  p.  82  :  Bern.  Sen.,  vol.  i,  p.  208  ; 
Wadding,  an.  1236,  p.  429;  1279,  462;  1280,  467;  1291; 
Actus  S.  Francisci,  cap.  xl.  For  Calvinistic  ideas  of  hell  Bonav. 
Quaest.  Circ.  Reg.  xix  and  Soliloq.,  c.  iv  :  Aquinas  sup.  qusest. 
XCIV  (XCV)  art.  iii.  Gerson,  vol.  ii,  p.  676e.  In  fact  (as  Dr. 
Brown  has  pointed  out  in  his  recent  able  essay  on  Pearl)  this 
Calvinistic  idea  is  not  the  exception,  but  the  almost  universal 
rule  among  medieval  schoolmen.  (For  Angela,  see  Wadding, 
an.  1309,  §  xi). 

St.  Bernard's  bitter  condemnation  of  elaborate  architecture  or 
ornament  for  monastic  churches,  though  perhaps  the  most  in- 
structive document  of  its  kind,  is  too  long  to  quote  here ;  but  I 
subjoin  a  shorter  passage  from  the  De  Claustro  Animoe,  printed 
among  the  works  of  Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  but  probably  written 
by  his  contempoi*ary,  Hugh  Foliot  (Migne  Pat.  Lat.,  clxxvi, 
col.  1053).  "  Let  the  Brethren's  buildings  be  not  superfluous, 
but  humble ;  not  delightful,  but  decent.  Stone  is  useful  in  build- 
ing, but  of  what  use  is  carving  in  the  stone  ? "  Such  show  might 
indeed  be  permitted  in  the  Temple  under  the  Old  Testament  dis- 
pensation, and  nowadays  "  let  it  be  permitted  (if  it  be  permitted 
in  any  case)  to  those  who  dwell  in  towns  or  villages  frequented 
by  layfolk,  that  such  simple  minds  as  are  not  delighted  by  the 
subtleties  of  Holy  Scripture  may  be  held  fast  by  the  delight  of 


Appendix  A.  367 

of  painting  [or  sculpture]  :  but,  for  us  [monks]  who  delight  in 
solitude,  a  horse  or  ox  is  better  in  the  field  than  carved  on  the 
wall."  Gerson  is  not  at  all  sure  that  the  multiplicity  of  images 
does  not  lead  the  common  folk  into  idolatry  :  and  Chaucer's  con- 
temporary, Eustache  Deschamps,  composed  a  poem  which  he 
entitled  "  Balade,  que  on  ne  doit  mettre  es  eglises  nulz  ymaiges 
entaillez,  fors  le  crucifix  et  la  vierge,  pour  doubte  d'ydolatrier." 
(Works,  vol.  viii,  p.  201).  There  is  one  stanza  of  the  poem, 
which  (if  we  had  no  other  evidence)  would  show  the  futility  of 
Abbot  Gasquet's  contention  that  even  the  common  people  wor- 
shipped images  without  any  risk  of  idolatry  : 

"  Car  I'ouvraige  est  forme  plaisant ; 
La  painture  dont  je  me  plain, 
La  beaute  de  I'or  reluisant, 
Font  croire  k  maint  peuple  incertain 
Que  ce  soient  Dieu  pour  certain, 
Et  servent  par  pens^es  foles 

Telz  ymages  qui  font  caroles  (i.«.,  stand  in  a  ring) 
Es  moustiers  ou  trop  en  mettons ; 
C'est  tres  mal  fait :  a  briefs  paroles 
Telz  simulacres  n'aourons." 

4.  Bern.  Bess.,  pp.  303-309,  405. — St.  Bonaventura  in  the  same 
volume,  pp.  234,  249,  262-265.~Dav.  Aug.,  pp.  32  ff,  188, 
325  flf,  286  ff.— Bern.  Bess.,  364,  347.— Mirror,  chap.  96.— 
Dav.  Aug.,  pp.  46,  48.  I  will  quote  a  few  of  these  warnings  in 
full.  St.  Bonaventura  (262):  "Avoid  in  all  places  all  women 
and  beardless  youths,  except  for  reasons  of  necessity  or  manifest 
profit."  Again  (239)  :  "  Flee  from  women  as  far  as  in  thee 
lieth,  as  from  serpents ;  nor  even  speak  with  any  except  under 
compulsion  of  urgent  necessity  ;  nor  even  look  in  the  face  of  any 

woman For  Augustine  saith  '  with  women  we  must 

speak  roughly,  briefly  and  stiffly  :  nor  are  they  less  perilous  for 
being  holy  women  :  for,  the  holier  they  are,  the  more  they  entice 
us,  and  under  the  cloke  of  smooth  speech  creeps  in  the  slime  of 
most  impious  lust.  Believe  me,  who  am  a  bishop  :  I  speak  the 
truth  in  God,  I  lie  not.  I  have  known  cedars  of  Lebanon  and 
bell-wethers  of  the  flock  to  fall  by  this  pretext : — men  whose 
ruin  I  should  no  more  have  suspected  than  that  of  St.  Jerome  or 
St.  Ambrose.'  "  St.  Bona  Ventura's  secretary  (381),  after  warning 
the  friar  never  to  kiss  even  his  mother,  if  he  can  well  avoid  it, 
or  "  his  sister  or  niece,  of  however  tender  age,"  adds,  "  how  can 
it  be  lawful  to  touch  that  which  is  not  lawful  to  gaze  upon  ? " 
David  of  Augsburg  (188) :  "  How  many  have  frequented  spiritual 
women  under  the  excuse  of  spiritual  friendship  and  of  obtaining 
their  prayers  !     See,  what  purity  in  their  first  intention,  viz.. 


368  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

charity  and  devotion  !  Then  follow  long  talks,  now  of  God, 
now  of  their  own  mutual  love  and  faith,  and  loving  looks  and 
little  presents  exchanged  for  memorials  of  friendship.  ...  At 
last  follow  false  goods,  but  true  evils,  namely,  embraces,  kisses, 
touching  of  hands  and  breasts,  and  the  like;  all  of  which  are 
suspicious  signs  of  carnal  affection  and  preludes  of  foul  works. 
Last  of  all,  as  the  guilt  of  what  hath  gone  before,  follows  im- 
modesty, that  is,  open  works  of  iniquity."  There,  again,  is  an 
anecdote  of  St.  Dominic's  successor,  Jordan  of  Saxony,  a  saint, 
and  a  man  of  sound  common  sense  (Vit.  Frat.,  p.  146):  "A 
certain  friar  accused  a  brother  friar  in  Chapter  of  having  touched 
a  woman's  hand.  He  replied,  '  She  was  a  good  woman.'  Then 
answered  the  president  (Jordan  of  Saxony),  *Ea,in  is  good  and 
earth  is  good,  yet  from  their  mingling  mud  is  formed  :  so  also  is 
it  even  with  the  good  hand  of  a  man  and  of  a  woman ;  for  when 
they  join  together  evil  thoughts  and  affections  sometimes  arise.'" 
S.  Bernardino  of  Siena,  enumerating  the  cases  in  which  a  friar 
may  lawfully  appeal  to  the  higher  authorities  against  the  deci- 
sion of  his  immediate  superiors,  specifies  "  also  if  he  were  to  be 
compelled  by  the  superiors  of  any  monastery  to  hear  confessions, 
and  through  such  confessions  should  frequently  fall  into  frailty 
on  account  of  the  foul  things  which  he  hears  in  the  confessional 
....  also  if  any  woman  were  to  solicit  him  to  sin  with  her 
by  signs  or  words  or  presents"  {0pp.,  vol.  iii,  p.  442).  Many 
friars  tried  to  live  up  to  this  ascetic  creed  :  admiring  chroniclers 
record  how  St.  Louis  of  Toulouse  was  asked  by  his  mother,  after 
a  long  absence,  '* '  Am  I  not  your  mother,  who  may  lawfully  kiss 
you  1 '  To  whom  her  virginal  son  replied, '  I  know,  my  Lady,  that 
you  are  my  mother  and  a  woman,  whom  it  is  not  expedient  for  a 
servant  of  God  to  kiss ' "  (24  Gen.,  p.  434).  Also,  "  Brother  Jacopo 
di  Benedetto  daTodi,  a  man  of  great  perfection,  was  so  firmly  rooted 
in  purity  of  mind  and  body  that  (as  he  said)  he  cared  to  see  the 
head  and  face  of  the  fairest  woman  no  more,  or  perchance  even 
less  than  an  ass's  head  "  (Ibid,  p.  460).  Yet  we  may  see  clearly, 
even  from  Salimbene,  how  little  the  majority  were  inclined  to 
avoid  all  social  intercourse  with  women,  and  how  easy  it  might 
be  to  fall  into  spiritual  familiarity  with  a  nun.  A  little  later, 
Alvarez  Pelayo,  a  learned  Spanish  Franciscan,  who  became  a 
Papal  Penitentiary,  complained  of  the  frequency  with  which 
familiarity  between  nuns  and  their  devoti,  or  spiritual  directors, 
led  to  sin,  "Scarce  any  nun  is  without  her  carnal  devotua 
....  and  she  holds  herself  neglected  who  has  no  such  devotee, 
or  rather  corrupter.  Secular  folk  and  nuns'  relations  know  this, 
and  murmur  and  are  scandalized  and  complain  to  the  Superiors, 
but  to  small  purpose ;  for  the  flame  of  the  flesh  is  a  consuming 
fire."  (De  Planctu  Ecdesice,  fol.  243a  ;  lib.  ii,  art.  73).  These 
words,  from  a  churchman  in  such  high  position,  lend  double  sig- 


Appendix  A.  369 

nificance  to  Salimbene's  tales  of  the  Abbess  of  Gatharola,  and 
the  poor  nun  who  had  Cardinal  Ottaviano  for  her  father ;  and 
they  make  us  understand  the  frequent  attempts  of  some  of  the 
best  Franciscan  Generals  to  cut  the  male  part  of  the  Order  alto- 
gether apart  from  the  female  (cf.  Wadding,  1245,  p.  140 ;  1250, 
p.  223;  1255,  p.  537  ;  1263,  p.  218).  In  this  last  passage  St. 
Bona  Ventura  asserts  most  earnestly  ' '  the  secret  evil  and  hidden 
danger"  of  such  relations.  Moreover,  there  was  the  further 
chance  of  scandal  even  where  there  was  no  guilt,  as  St.  Bona- 
ventura  says  again  in  repudiating  the  care  of  the  b^guinages : 
"  if  any  of  these  [b6guines]  were  of  evil  repute  for  any  crime  of 
fornication  or  adultery,  forthwith  men  who  perchance  love  us 
not  would  publish  this  abroad  to  our  infamy,  saying,  '  Lo  !  these 
barefooted  Sisters  bring  forth  little  barefooted  children  for  them  ! 
but  of  whom  should  they  conceive  such  if  not  of  those  who  are 
busy  about  them  all  day  long  1  And  wanton  clergy  or  laymen, 
in  their  hatred  of  us,  would  be  more  unfriendly  to  those  Sisters, 
either  to  corrupt  them  or  to  bring  them  into  evil  fame,  since 
their  disgrace  would  fall  upon  us  rather  than  upon  others.' " 
{Libell.  Apol.y  Qusest.  xvi).  These  passages,  out  of  ten  times 
as  many  which  might  be  quoted,  may  suffice  to  show  the  reader 
how  much  greater  were  the  j)erils  of  monastic  life  in  days  when 
the  Religious  swarmed  everywhere,  and  public  opinion  was  com- 
paratively lenient,  than  in  our  days  of  few  monasteries,  efficient 
police,  and  strong  public  opinion. 

5.  Friars  and  food,  see  McCabe,  "  Twelve  Years  in  a  Monastery," 
p.  263,  and  "  Life  in  a  Modem  Monastery,"  chap,  iv  :  Eccleston 
R.  S.,  p.  19  :  Bonav.  Qusest.  circ.  Reg.  ix  :  Bert.  Rat.  Sermones, 
p.  30  :  Archiv.  vol.  iv,  pp.  77,  80.  cf.  187  :  Bern.  Bess.,  chaps, 
xxi,  xxii,  xxxii :  Hugo  de  S.  Victore  de  Inst.  Novitiorum. 
(Migne.  Pat.  Lat.,  vol.  176),  col.  949c:  Humb.  de  Romanis 
Speculum  Religiosorum  (Cologne,  1616),  p.  136.  "Indecenter 
agitur  "  (says  B.  Bess.,  p.  352)  ..."  si  quis  tussit  aut  stemutat 
non  aversa  facie  a  mensa ;  raro  enim  hoc  fit  sine  qualicunque 
emissione  reliquiarum  oris  ;  si  nudam  manum  in  mensa  naribus 
emungendis  vel  cami  nudse  scalpendse  apponit,  vel  manum 
ipsum  ad  vestimenta  detergit."  The  handkerchief  or  napkin, 
though  not  absolutely  unknown  even  in  the  13th  century,  was 
seldom  or  never  used  for  ita  chief  modem  purpose.  The  14th 
century    "  Boke  of  Curtasye  "  warns  : — 

"  If  thou  spitt  ouer  the  borde,  or  elles  opon. 
Thou  shalle  be  holden  an  uncurtase  mon  .  .  . 
If  thy  nose  thou  dense,  as  may  be-falle, 
Loke  thy  honde  thou  dense,  as  wythe-alle, 
Priuely  with  skyrt  do  hit  away. 
Other  ellis  thurgh  thi  tepet  that  is  so  gay." 

B  2 


370  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

{Manners  and  Meals.  E.E.T.S.,  p.  301,  cf  25).  A  quotation 
from  Hugh  of  St.  Victor's  rules  for  the  table  behaviour  of 
Austin  Canons,  will  enable  the  reader  to  see  how  nearly  monks 
and  friars  approached  each  other  in  this  respect.  (Migne  Pat. 
Lot.  clxxvi,  949).  "Let  nothing  be  done  with  noise  or  tumult 
...  do  not  as  some  do,  who  on  sitting  down  to  table  show 
their  intemperance  of  mind  by  a  certain  uneasy  agitation  and 
confusion  of  their  limbs.  They  wag  their  heads,  stretch  out  their 
arms,  spread  out  their  hands  on  high,  and  not  without  great  boor- 
ishess  (as  though  they  would  swallow  down  the  whole  meal  at  one 
gulp),  they  strain  and  stretch  with  unseemly  gestures.  They  pant, 
they  gasp  for  anguish  :  you  might  fancy  that  they  were  seeking 
some  easier  inlet  to  their  clamorous  maw,  as  though  the  straitness 
of  their  gullet  could  not  minister  in  proper  abundance  to  their  hun- 
gry stomach.  .  .  .  Some  at  their  meals,  in  their  anxiety  to  empty 
the  dishes,  wrap  in  the  cloth,  or  throw  upon  it,  the  sops  reeking 
with  fat  or  gravy  that  have  been  poured  over  them  ;  until  at 
last  (having  meanwhile  gutted  the  inward  parts  of  the  dish)  they 
put  back  the  sops  as  they  were.  Others,  as  they  drink,  plunge 
their  fingers  half-way  into  the  cup.  Others  wipe  their  greasy 
hands  on  the  frocks,  and  turn  again  to  handle  the  food.  Others 
again  fish  out  their  vegetables  with  bare  fingers  instead  of  a 
spoon  ;  so  that  they  seem  to  seek  to  wash  their  hands  and  refresh 
their  belly  with  one  and  the  same  broth.  Others  thrust  again 
into  the  dish  their  half-gnawed  crusts  or  sops,  and  dip  into  the 
cups  the  leavings  of  their  own  teeth  in  the  guise  of  sippets. 
These  things  (as  I  have  said  above)  would  be  shameful  for  me 
to  describe,  but  that  I  have  been  forestalled  by  such  as  do  them 
in  deed." 

6.  Cf.  A  Reviewer  in  the  Church  Times  for  Aug.  26th,  1904,  who 

complains  that  the  average  Englishman  judges  monks  by  "  the 
consciousness  of  what  he  himself  should  {sic.)  be  and  do  if  he 
were  placed  in  a  cloister,"  and  who  goes  on  to  betray  complete 
ignorance  of  monastic  life  as  described  by  monks  themselves. 

7.  Fi-iars  in  church,  see  esp.  Bern.  Bess.,  pp.  301-341.     Bonav.,  pp. 

56,  218  of  same  vol. :  Dav.  Aug.  pp.  7,  107  :  Cses.  Heist.,  vol. 
i,  pp.  202-206,  222,  250  (2),  283,  284,  333  :  vol.  ii,  p.  104  :  Yit. 
Frat.,  p.  206.  Nic.  -Clar.  Serm.  iii  in  Nativ.  Domini,  (in  Ma- 
billon's  St.  Bei-nard,  1719,  vol.  ii,  p.  584).  Thos.  Cant.  pp.  334, 
335,  405.     Italic  Mystique,  p.  71. 

8.  The  law  might  indeed  forbid  :  but  the  reader  will  see  later  on  that 

the  secular  clergy  were  often  almost  incredibly  irreverent  in 
medieval  churches. 


Appendix  A.  371 

9.  Talking,  laughing,  etc.,  Eccleston  R.S.,  p.  20»  Vit.  Frat.,  p. 
144.  Bonav.  1.  c.  207.  Bern.  Bess.  328,  357,  377,  395,  396. 
Archiv.,  vol.  iii,  p.  168.  Bern.  Bess.  340,  302.  This  same 
habit  of  public  criticism  during  service  is  noted  by  Bishop 
Grandisson  among  his  clergy  in  Exeter  Cathedral.  Too  often 
one  officiant  would  trip  in  his  reading ;  when  the  rest,  who 
should  rather  have  mourned  his  fault,  would  cry  aloud  in  the 
vulgar  tongue,  "Cursed  be  he  who  spake  that  last  lie"  (Reg., 
p.  086). 

10.  For  sanitary  rules  in  church,  etc.,  see  Bern.  Bess.  327,  328,  338, 

339,  364,  368,  370,  406.  Flamenca  (ed.  P.  Meyer),  line  3, 131 ; 
cf.  T.  Wright,  Domestic  Manners,  pp.  162,  277,  366. 

11.  Mantellos  curtoa  usque  ad  nates.     For  this,  and  other  wilful  singu- 

larities, the  General  Crescenzio  da  Jesi  "  valiantly  exterminated 
them."  (xxiv  Gen.,  p.  263.  Cf.  469,  and  Ubertino's  description 
of  the  Brethren's  dresses  in  Archiv.,  iii,  56). 

12.  Archiv.,  iii,  65. 

13.  Cses.  Heist,  dist.  iv,  c.  48  :  cf.  iii  8,  iv  6,  xii  6.     For  monastic 

and  general  ideas  of  personal  cleanliness  in  the  Middle  Ages  see 
Busch.  introd.,  p.  xxiv,  and  p.  584  :  Consuetudines  S.  Aug. 
Cant.  (H.  Bradshaw  Soc.  1902),  p.  195  :  Winchester  Obe- 
dientiary Kolls  (Hampshire  Record  Soc),  p.  71  :  cf.  36,  87: 
R.  Steele,  Medieval  Lore,  p.  51  :  Vine.  Bell.  Spec.  Hist, 
xxviii  128,  and  xxix  116  :  Register  of  Peckham,  R.S.,  vol.  i, 
p.  1. :  Maitland,  Dark  Ages,  1890,  p.  85.  David  of  Augsburg 
mentions  vermin  among  the  petty  trials  which  no  religious  can 
escape  :  "  oportet  nos  pati  morsiones  pulicum  et  similium  bestio- 
larum  "  (259) ;  cf.  the  Dominican  Vitae  Fratrum,  p.  39,  where 
Father  Conway  renders  a  plain  word  of  the  original  by  the 
euphemistic  phrase  "  and  other  discomforts."  Etienne  de 
Bourbon  is  even  more  plain-spoken  about  the  inconvenience  of 
the  elaborately  dressed  wigs  which  were  in  vogue  among  13th 
century  ladies,  and  which  had  to  be  built  up  with  such  toil  and 
kept  so  carefully  undisturbed.  Such  fashionable  ladies,  he  says, 
are  "the  devil's  martyrs"  :  just  consider  "the  pain  and  labour 
which  they  suffer  in  getting  and  dressing  [the  hair],  washing  and 
combing,  dyeing  and  anointing,  suffering  vermin  and  nits  and  lice 
therein,  etc.,  etc."  (pp.  233,  240).  Michelet  was  too  hasty  in 
asserting  that  Europe  forgot  to  bathe  for  1,000  years  ;  but  it  is 
none  the  less  true  that  the  daily  tub  draws  a  hard  and  fast  line 
between  polite  society  in  the  20th  century  and  in  the  13th. 
This  is  clearly  shown  by  many  detailed  descriptions  of  the 
knight's  morning  toilette  :  e.g.  Petit  Jean  de  Saintr6  pt.  i,  c.  ix : 


372  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Manners  and  Meals  E.E.T.S.,  p.  179:  Flamenca,  1.  224  ff. 
cf.  1556  ff.  See  again  the  words  of  St.  Vincent  Ferrer  (in 
a  sermon  quoted  by  Thureau-Dangin  St.  Benardin  de  Sienne. 
Chap,  iv,  §  ii.  (Paris,  1897.)  "  What  does  a  man  do  on 
awakening  in  the  morning  ?  He  does  ten  things  :  opens  his 
eyes,  sits  up  in  bed,  half  dresses,  gets  out  of  bed,  spits,  puts  on 
his  drawers,  washes  his  hands,  etc.,  etc."  L.  Gautier,  in  his 
La  ChevcUerie,  shows  clearly  enough  that  the  bath  was  not  un- 
known, but  entirely  fails  to  see  that  this  was  the  warm  batJi, 
taken  as  a  luxury  or  by  doctor's  orders.  Simdon  Luce  points 
out  that  public  bathing  establishments  of  this  kind  were  to  be 
found  sometimes  even  in  villages  in  13th  century  France  :  but 
his  assertions  on  this  and  similar  points  are  summed  up  very  in- 
accurately and  apologetically  by  Abbot  Gasquet  (Gt.  Pestilence, 
pp.  54-56  :  cf.  Luce,  chap.  iii). 

14.  Cf.  Ubertino's  contention  (Archiv.  iii,  p.  176),  that  "the  Rule 
alloweth  no  change  of  garments,  for  outer  or  for  inner  wear .  .  . 
yet,  since  the  Brethren  need  now  and  then  (interdum)  to  wash 
their  frocks  [which  the  Rule  compelled  them  to  wear  day  and 
night],  St.  Francis  ordained  that  some  should  be  kept  in  com- 
mon, more  or  less  according  to  the  numbers  of  the  brethren  ; 
which  common  frocks  might  be  used  by  the  sick."  Thomas  of 
Eccleston  (R.S.  p.  33),  mentions  how  "  Brother  Elias  sent  word 
round  that  the  Brethren  should  wash  their  own  drawers  :  so  the 
Brethren  of  the  English  Administration  washed  theirs,  according 
to  his  bidding ;  but  they  of  the  Scottish  Administration  waited 
for  further  orders."  This  probably  involved  the  problem  of  the 
lavandaria,  or  washerwoman,  which  had  long  been  a  serious 
difficulty  in  the  older  orders,  and  became  acute  later  on  among 
the  Friars  also,  as  Ninguarda's  16th  century  Visitations  show. 

16.  For  friars'  morality  see  Ana.  Fra.  iii,  p.  268.  Piers  Plowman,  B. 
XX,  345.  Ben.  Im.  vol.  v.  p.  85.  Busch,  p.  45.  Gerson,  vol. 
i.  p.  194e.,  ii,  641c.  Gower.,  Vox  Clamantis,  lib.  iii,  1.  837  ; 
and  the  parallel  passages  in  his  Mirour  de  VOmme. 

16.  Contemporary,  Dec,  1905,  and  April,  1906  :  cf.  reply  by  Father 
R.  H.  Benson  in  the  June  number,  and  my  rejoinder  in  July- 
I  cannot  help  regretting  that  Father  Benson,  from  a  dislike  of 
controversy  which  I  know  to  be  genuine  in  his  case,  has  de- 
clined to  allow  me  to  reprint  his  essay  under  the  same  covers 
as  my  two  {Medieval  Studies,  No.  6,  "  The  Truth  about  the 
Monasteries").  I  had  already  dealt  with  Abbot  Gasquet's 
falsifications  of  the  real  evidence  in  my  first  Medieval  Study, 
"The  Monastic  Legend."  The  matter  was  also  discussed  at 
some  length  in  the  Tablet  (Dec.  6,  1905,  to  the  following  Feb- 


Appendix  A.  373 

ruary)  :  but  my  antagonist  in  that  paper,  Father  Gerard,  whom 
I  had  convicted  of  gross  and  palpable  mis-statements,  altogether 
declined  to  let  me  reprint  the  whole  correspondence.  I  have 
since  permitted  the  Protestant  Keformation  Society  to  reprint  my 
letters,  with  summaries  of  Father  Gerard's,  in  a  pamphlet 
entitled,  "  Catholic  Truth  and  Historical  Truth." 

17.  Monumenta  Franciscana,  p.    55.     Father  Cuthbert's  translation 

("  The  Friars,  and  how  they  came  to  England")  destroys  the  real 
sense  of  this  passage,  by  omitting  the  crucial  word  ordinis,  thus 
making  it  appear  as  if  the  friars'  difficulties  wei'e  incurred  in 
reforming  other  institutions  than  their  ovm. 

18.  Cf.  Eccleston's  description  of  the  General  Aymon  of  Faversham, 

who  through  his  early  asceticism  "  became  at  last  so  feeble  and 
delicate  that  he  could  scarce  live  without  roast  meats  and  warm 
food  "  (R.S.,  p.  22).  Similarly  Bourbon  (p.  422)  describes  the  ex- 
tent to  which  St.  Bernard,  after  ruining  his  own  health,  was 
forced  to  set  a  dangerous  example  to  his  brother  monks. 

19.  Bert.  Rat.  Serm.,  p.   11:  cf.  8,  9,  13,  14,  Sindi  passim. — Bonav. 

Quaest.  circ.  Reg.  xix :  cf .  the  even  stronger  language  of  his 
contemporary,  David  of  Augsburg,  as  to  the  scorn  and  persecu- 
tion to  which  strict  friars  were  already  subjected  by  the  laxer 
majority  (pp.  110,  285,  331).— Bert.  Rat.  Serm.,  pp.  29,  41,  71, 
90. 


Chapter  VII. 

1.  In  theory,  divorce  in  the  modern  sense  is  not  permitted  by  the 

Roman  Church ;  but  it  was  generally  easy  for  influential  persons 
to  obtain  a  decree  of  nullity  on  different  pretexts,  or  (as  appar- 
ently in  this  case)  to  take  the  law  into  their  own  hands  and 
practically  change  wives  at  pleasure.  For  the  absurd  and  im- 
moral anomalies  of  the  Canon  Law  on  the  question  of  marriage, 
see  the  chapter  on  this  subject  in  Pollock  and  Maitland's 
"  History  of  English  Law." 

2.  Cf.  Brother  Thomas  Hibemicus,  who  imitated  a  certain  St.  Mark 

in  cutting  off"  his  thumb  to  escape  the  priesthood  (Eubel.  Prov., 
p.  51),  and  Conrad  of  Offida,  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  early 
friars.  "  Brother  Andrew  asked  Brother  Conrad  of  Offida  why 
he  never  celebrated,  since  he  was  priest  and  was  [formerly]  wont 
to  celebrate  frequently  :  wbereunto  he  answered, '  Know,  Brother 
Andrew,  that  before  I  was  made  priest,  I  was  for  full  seven 
years  continuously  in  such  a  mood  that  in  all  created  things — 
stocks  and  stones  and  whatsoever  else  they  might  be — in  all,  I 


374  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

say,  I  was  wont  to  behold  God  wrapped  in  sweet  celestial  light : 
and  then  I  was  so  comforted  that  I  thought  to  possess  a  Paradise 
everywhere.  And  at  that  time  it  was  burdensome  to  me  to 
serve  at  mass,  for  that  it  distracted  me  from  this  consolation, 
when  I  must  needs  serve  the  priest  in  his  mass.  How  then 
could  I  now  celebrate  mass,  though  I  receive  the  Lord's  body  on 
Sundays  and  feast  days  for  the  reverence  and  efficacy  of  the 
Sacrament?  And  meseems  that,  before  I  was  a  priest,  St. 
Francis  appeared  more  often  to  me  than  now :  and  at  times  he 
would  lean  his  head  on  my  breast,  and  would  speak  to  me  at 
greater  length  than  now.' "     (Ana.  Fra.,  iii,  427.) 

3.  For  St.  Francis  see  H.  Bohmer,  Analekten  z.  Gesch.  des.  F.  v. 

Assisi.  (Tubingen,  1904),  pp.  28,  39.  The  former  reference  is 
translated  at  length,  though  not  very  correctly,  by  Miss  Mac- 
donell,  p.  152.  The  hermitage  system  went  on  at  least  till  1220, 
six  years  before  the  saint's  death  :  Sabatier,  p.  199. 

4.  Salimbene,  pp.  100  foil.     Lempp.  (p.  116)  thinks  that  his  opinions 

can  scarcely  be  taken  as  altogether  typical  on  this  point ;  that  the 
Order  can  scarcely  have  drifted  so  far  in  so  short  a  time.  But  it 
had  undoubtedly  drifted  at  least  as  far  from  the  Saint's  purpose 
in  the  direction  of  extravagant  buildings  and  reception  of  money  : 
and  even  the  love  of  money  is  not  a  more  natural  instinct  than 
that  the  learned  members  of  a  religious  Order  should  resent  such 
an  equality,  or  even  preponderance,  of  the  unlearned,  as  was  the 
rule  under  St.  Francis. 

5.  Of.   Dante,   Inf.,    xxiii,   3.      After  the   example   of  the   earlier 

monastic  Orders,  friars  were  commanded  always  to  go  about  two 
by  two,  to  avoid  scandal :  and  the  same  regulation  was  enforced 
on  the  inmates  of  colleges  at  medieval  universities. 

6.  Salimbene  here  exaggerates:  Haymo  of  Faversham  (1240-1244) 

did  indeed  forbid  their  promotion  to  offices,  but  they  were  still 
admitted  to  the  Order,  as  Prof.  Holder-Egger  points  out  (p.  103, 
note  6). 

Chapter  VIII, 

1.  For  Guido  Bonatti  see  Dante  Inf.,  xx,  118,  and  Prof.  Holder- 

Egger's  note  on  this  page  163. 

2.  It  is  noteworthy  that  St.  Bonaventura  was  here  of  an  opposite 

opinion  to  his  contemporary  Salimbene.  He  specifies  this 
'♦  frequent  re-election  of  officials  as  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  the 
decay  of  a  religious  Order,"  and  gives  his  reasons  at  length. 
(Qusest  circ.  Reg.,  xix.) 


Appendix  A.  375 

3.  Cf.  his  Life  by  Bonaventura,  viii,  9j  10.     I  have  already  noted 

(Medieval  Studies,  no.  3)  how  little  the  Order  in  general  seems 
to  have  shared  Francis's  love  of  animals.  From  the  time  of  the 
General  Chapter  of  Narbonne,  at  least  (1260),  it  was  a  strict 
rule  "  that  no  animal  be  kept,  for  any  Brother  or  any  convent, 
whether  by  the  Order  or  by  some  person  in  the  Order's  name^ 
except  cats  and  certain  birds  for  the  removal  of  unclean  things." 

4.  Such  assertions  as  that  in  Mr.  F.  8.  Stevenson's  Grosseteste  (p. 

148),  that  the  early  part  of  the  13bh  century  was  the  "golden 
age  of  English  monasticism  "  cannot  be  taken  without  very  con- 
siderable qualification.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  among  modern 
writers  to  ignore  the  large  body  of  irreproachable  evidence  as  to 
widespread  and  serious  abuses  in  all,  or  nearly  all,  the  Orders 
long  before  1250.  Guibert  of  Nogent,  early  in  the  12th  century, 
describes  the  monasteries  of  his  time  as  dumping  grounds  for 
young  men  of  good  family  who  could  not  otherwise  be  provided 
for,  and  who  therefore  spent  their  monastic  life  in  idleness  and 
dissipation  of  the  common  revenues.  (Migne.  Pat.  Lat.  clvi, 
col.  850) :  Jacques  de  Vitry,  early  in  the  13th,  and  JRoger  Bacon, 
towards  the  end  of  the  same  century,  bear  testimony  at  least  as 
unflattering.  See  note  5  to  chap.  12,  and  appendix  D,  in  which 
I  have  put  a  small  selection  from  the  vast  mass  of  available 
evidence. 

5.  Among  the  witty  and  improper  pieces  of  prose  and  verse  contained 

in  the  Franciscan  MS.  Harl.  913,  is  one  on  the  Abbot  of  Glou- 
cester's Feast,  in  which  the  Brethren  make  this  complaint.  See 
Reliquiae  Antiques,  i,  140. 

6.  For  Pietro  Peccatore  see  Dante,  Par.,  xxi,  122,  and  Toynbee's 

Dante  Dictionary  s.v.  Damiano  and  Pietro  degli  Onesti.  It  is 
very  possible  that  Dante  confused  the  two  men ;  but  these  words 
of  Salimbene's  seem  to  show  conclusively  that  the  second  was  the 
real  Pietro  Peccatore. 

7.  Cf.  Father  Cuthbert's  The  Friars,  and  how  they  came  to  England, 

pp.  105,  106,  in  which  a  doubtful  sentence  of  Prof.  Brewer's  is 
exaggerated  out  of  all  moderation  and  reason.  Apart  from  such 
passages  as  this  of  Salimbene's,  and  hundreds  of  other  briefer 
testimonies  to  the  same  spirit  among  the  records  of  the  early 
friars,  (e.g.  Bonaventura' a  lAfe  of  St.  Francis,  v,  5),  Father 
Cuthbert's  theory  is  flatly  contradicted  by  two  passages  of  the 
very  chronicle  which  he  has  undertaken  to  edit  (pp.  207,  233). 
His  only  medieval  reference  in  its  support  is  to  Chaucer  (Prol. 
212,  213),  where  the  poet  obviously  intends  slyly  to  convey  that 
same  acciisation  against  the  Friars'  morality  which  is  outspokenly 


37^  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

pronounced  in  Piers  Plowmcm,  B.  xx.  344.  Father  Cuthbert's 
work,  though  the  Church  Times  commends  it  warmly  *<  to  all 
who  are  vexed  with  Dissenters,"  abounds  in  such  purely 
imaginary  presentations  of  history ;  and  his  translation  of  Thomas 
of  Eccleston,  apart  from  a  few  obvious  bhmders,  is  disfigured  by 
one  or  two  very  unfortunate  misrepresentations. 


Chapter  IX. 


1.     Cf.  Purg.,  xi,  81. 


2.  For  the  extent  to  which  Latin  hymnology  was  indebted  to  popular 

songs,  see  Du  Meril,  pp.  26  ff. 

3.  Helinand  in  Vine.  Bell.     Spec.  Hist.,  1.  xxix,  c.  144 — Ben.  Im., 

vol.  iii,  p.  75. 

4.  Some  instances  of  the  rapid  oblivion  which  overtook  even  miracle- 

workers  may  be  found  in  Wadding  1212,  §  42:  1233,  p.  369  : 
1235,  p.  401  :  1282,  p.  114  :  1291,  p.  281  :  1305,  §  4.  The 
seven  bulls  said  to  have  been  addressed  in  1216  to  seven  bishops 
about  the  Portiuncula  Indulgence  were  all  lost  by  1281,  or  at 
latest  by  1330  (Sabatier,  p.  415  :  cf.  24  Gen.,  p.  372  note). 
Bartholomew  of  Pisa,  when  he  wrote  his  book  of  the  Conformities, 
was  unable  to  ascertain  where  Simon  of  Assisi  was  buried. 
Already  in  1360  the  important  book  of  the  Minister-General 
Crescenzio  da  Jesi,  on  the  lives  of  early  Friars,  was  half  destroyed  : 
"  some  of  it  is  left,  the  rest  has  perished  through  neglect."  St. 
Adhemar  de  Filsin  died  in  1309  :  half  a  century  later  the 
Chronicler  of  the  Twenty-four  Generals  writes  "  although  much 
had  been  written  of  his  life  and  miracles,  all  have  been  lost  by 
carelessness"  (Ana.  Fra.,  pp.  160,  263,  464:  cf.  216  and  372 
note).  I  shall  have  occasion  to  return  to  this  subject  of  medieval 
negligence  of  books.     (Chap,  xiii,  note  6). 

5.  See  the  confessions  of  W.  de  Notyngham  in  Mon.  Franc.  U.S., 

p.  71,  and  compare  those  of  Adam  Marsh,  on  p.  336. 

6.  Wadding,  1 256,  pp.  2  ff. 

7.  Dante.     Par.  xii,  134. 

8.  Miss   Macdonell   (pp.   246   foil.)   brings   out   well   the   unselfish 

humility  of  John's  last  thirty  years,  though  here  again  she  twice 
misreads  Salimbene,  and  misapplies  to  John  some  words  of 
Ubertino  which  were  really  written  of  St.  Francis. 


Appendix  A.  377 

9.  These  testimonials  to  John  of  Parma  are  quoted  in  full  by  Aff5, 
Vita  di  Gioanni  di  Parma  (Parma,  1777),  pp.  181,  182.  Miss 
Macdonell  puts  the  date  of  his  beatification  wrongly  in  1770. 

10.  "  Ugolino  the  shearer,"  whom  Miss  Macdonell  quotes  to  prove 

Salimbene's  want  of  snobbishness,  even  towards  humble  friends, 
would  in  fact  be  a  man  of  wealth  and  position  in  the  city.  The 
"tonsores"  (not  shearers,  but  shearmen)  were  clothdressers, 
possessing  a  quarter  of  their  own  in  13th  century  Oxford, 
Norwich,  and  elsewhere;  and  a  master-shearman,  such  as  the 
context  implies  Ugolino  to  have  been,  would  be  a  wealthy  man. 

11.  Not  the  Azzo  VIII  of  Inf.  xviii,  56  and  Purg.  v,  77  ;  but  his 

great-grandfather,  Azzo  VII,  who  died  in  1264. 

1 2.  The  great  heroine  of  the  Church  party,  and  probably  the  Matelda 

of  Purg.  xxviii,  40  foil. 

13.  Ecc.  X,  19  (Vulg.)     Those  who  groan  over  the  power  of  "the 

almighty  dollar "  in  the  modem  world,  may  be  consoled  to  learn 
that  this  text  was  repeated  in  the  Middle  Ages  with  wearisome 
iteration  by  writers  of  all  classes,  and  certainly  with  at  least  as 
much  justice  as  at  present. 


Chapter  X. 

1.  These  and  half-a-dozen  similar  sentences  in  Salimbene  form  an  ad- 

mirable commentary  on  Par.  xvii,  58. 

2.  With  regard  to  Salimbene's  remark  about  the  five  talents  Prof. 

Holder-Egger  falls  into  a  curious  error.  Not  recognizing  the 
allusion  to  the  Parable  of  the  Talents,  he  notes,  "  I  have  never 
read  this  incident  in  the  lives  of  St.  Francis :  nor  do  I  see  how 
it  can  be  bold  of  a  man  who  would  not  touch  money."  Salim- 
bene, with  the  usual  Franciscan  ingenuity  in  finding  types  of 
St.  Francis  throughout  Holy  Scripture,  has  no  doubt  that  St, 
Matthew's  words  "to  one  he  gave  five  talents"  prefigured  the 
one  Saint  to  whom  Christ  had  given  his  five  wounds.  For  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  this  miracle  of  the  Stigmata,  not 
uncommon  since,  was  still  unique  when  Salimbene  wrote. 

3.  Cses.  Heist.  Dist.  vi,  c.  30. 

4.  The  Parmese  had  torn  down  all  the  exiles'  houses  and  built  their 

city  walls  with  the  materials  (Murat.  ix,  p.  773d). 


378  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

5.  This  is  the  Bernardo  Rossi  whom  Salimbene  compares  with  Charle- 
magne: a  flattering  description  which  Miss  Macdonell,  blindly 
following  Cantarelli's  translation,  transfers  to  the  Emperor 
Frederick. 


Chapter  XI. 

1.  Cf.  Ben.  Im.,  iii,  320  (commentary  on  Purg.,  xi,  134  ft').  Prof. 
Holder-Egger  throws  doubt  on  this  story :  very  unnecessarily, 
as  I  cannot  help  thinking.  The  fact  that  Enzio  was  at  one  time 
treated  well  in  prison  affords  only  a  very  slight  presumption  in 
favour  of  his  continued  good  treatment,  especially  in  the  Middle 


2.  For  the  horrors  of  prison  life  even  under  ordinary  circumstances 

see  Gross,  Office  of  Coroner  (Selden  Soc),  pp.  79  ff.  Six  prisoners 
died  in  Northampton  Gaol,  within  little  more  than  a  year 
(1322-3),  of  "hunger  and  thirst  and  cold." 

3.  Chron.  Parm.  in  Murat.,  ix,  pp.  810,  823,  825. 

4.  One  of  the  most  crying  sins  of  Bologna  is  branded  by  Benvenuto 

da  Imola,  vol.  i,  pp.  622  ff.     (Commentary  on  Inf.  xv,  106  ff.) 

5.  Ben.  i,  128  :  cf.  222 — though  in  iii,  397  he  seems  to  say  that  all 

provinces  of  Italy  were  alike  desolate. 

6.  Ill,  181,  on  Vurg.,  vi,  76  foil. 

7.  Sermon  iv,  p.  93. 


Chapter  XII. 

1.  Miss  Macdonell,  again  misled  by  the  Italian  translation,  represents 

the  courtiers  as  standing  on  each  other's  shoulders  ! 

2.  Lyons  was  then  nominally  in  the  Empire. 

3.  This  latter  tree  is  described  also,  in  much  the  same  language,  in 

the  Chronicle  of  the  Twentyfour  Generals,  p.  354. 

4.  This  unflattering  account  of  Papal  Legates  is  borne  out  by  the 

distinguished  John  of  Salisbury,  who  writes :  "  Not  even  do  the 
Papal  legates  keep  their  hands  altogether  free  from  bribes ;  for 
sometimes  they  rage  with  such  fury  in  their  provinces  as  though 


Appendix  A.  379 

Satan  had  come  out  from  before  the  Lord's  face  to  scourge  His 
church  ....  I  do  not  say  this  of  all  legates,  however."  (Migne. 
Pat.  Lat.  cxcix,  col.  580.) 

5.  This  remark  about  the  Benedictines  is  all  the  more  significant, 

because  the  journal  of  his  contemporary,  Odo  Rigaldi,  shows  that 
even  these  stricter  French  monasteries  were  already  in  such  a 
state  of  decay  as  would  not  be  tolerated  in  modern  England. 

6.  For  these  parodies  see  Du  M^ril,  pp.  204  note,  222  note. 

7.  i.e.,  in  modem  French   "J'ai  bu:  a  vous ! " — "I   have  drunk, 

now  it's  your  turn  !  " 

8.  For  Eudes  Rigaud,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  prelates  of  the 

Middle  Ages,  see  the  chapter  below  on  "The  Princes  of  the 
Church." 

9.  See  Archiv.,  vol.  vi,  p.  129. 

10.  It  was  not  only  in  churches  that  the  scantiness  of  medieval  furni- 

ture frequently  necessitated  sitting  on  the  ground,  e.g.,  Joinville, 
vi,  §  37  "  li  roys  .  .  .  mist  la  main  a  terre,  et  dist :  *  Seez-vous 
ci,  bien  pres  de  moy,  pour  ce  que  on  ne  nous  oie.' "  Cf .  ibid  iv, 
§  27;  Eccleston  R.S.,  p.  60;  Rashdall  i,  pp.  438,  561.  This 
explains,  though  it  can  scarcely  justify,  the  frequency  of  scuffles 
for  seats  during  the  service. 

11.  Cf.  Chaucer,  Prologue  i,  179.     The  ascription  of  these  words  to 

"  Holy  Scripture "  will  surprise  none  of  those  who  know  what 
quasi-Biblical  authority  was  usurped  in  the  Middle  Ages  by  some 
most  unbiblical  books :  this  quotation  is  in  fact  from  Gratian's 
Decretum. 

12.  See  below :  "  Princes  of  the  Church." 


Chapter  XIII. 

1.  One  of  the  spurious  writings  called  forth  by  the  popularity  of 

Joachim's  prophecies. 

2.  The  same  "rigour  of  justice"  was  also  inflicted  on  friars  whose 

only  crime  was  that  of  interpreting  the  Rule  too  literally. 
Perhaps  the  worst  case  was  that  of  Bro.  Pontius  Potugati,  who 
had  refused  to  give  up  for  the  burning  certain  writings  which  he 
possessed  of  the  Spiritual  Jean  de  Pierre  d'Olive.     "  Nam  vin- 


380  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

culis  ferreis  compeditum  et  catena  ferrea,  iafi*a  carcerem  fetidum 
artum  et  ctecum  ligatum  inchidunt,  et  affigentes  trunco  cathenam 
in  tantum  eum  coarctant  et  stringunt  ut  non  alibi,  nisi  ubi  sedere 
ferro  gravatus  cogebatur,  posset  secedere  vel  modicum  ad  requisita 
nature,  super  nudam  humum  urina  pedum  suorum  et  stercore 

stratam,  fetentem  et  lutosam,  infixus  sordido  limo  jacebat 

Infirmatus  tandem  jacebat  vel  potius  reclinatus  sedebat  sub 
pondere  ferri  in  fetoribus  stercoris  et  urine  animo  letus  et  cari- 
tatis  igne  succensus,  intinitas  Deo  gratias  refferens  spiritum  Deo 
reddidit.  .  .  .  Gustos  .  .  .  duobus  fratribus  laycis  robustis  corpore 
mandat,  in  fossis  orti  foveam  aliquam  facere  et  in  ea  corpus  hora 
secreta  projectum  humo  operire.  Accedunt  fratres  hii  injuncta 
perficere,  et  dura  laborant  corpus  semisepultum  in  vermibus  et 
stercore  a  cathena  et  ferreis  vinculis  solvere,  a  lumbis  deorsum 
inveniunt  [per]  multitudinem  vermium  ex  magna  parte  corrosum. 
Intuentes  vero  vultum  ipsius  obstupuerunt,  eo  quod  quedam 
claritas  refulgebat  in  facie  ejus,  que  videbatur  naturam  hominis 
excedere,  et  esse  potius  angelica  quam  humana." — Angelo  Clareno 
in  Archiv.  ii,  p.  300.  Other  similar  cases  may  be  found  des- 
cribed in  Dr.  Lea's  Inquisition,  vol.  iii,  pp.  1-89. 

3.  Joachim  was  generally  understood  to  have  fixed  the  year  1260  for 

the  beginning  of  the  New  Era :  and  indeed  Salimbene  himself 
says  as  much  on  p.  466.  It  is  significant  of  the  widespread  un- 
rest and  expectation  of  change  that,  in  the  great  dispute  between 
the  Mendicants  and  the  University  of  Paris,  both  parties  were 
agreed  as  to  the  mysterious  significance  of  the  year  1260. 
(Rashdall  i,  383,  note  1.) 

4.  Further  allusions  to  the  love  of  the  Dominicans  for  great  convents, 

and  to  the  relations  between  them  and  the  Franciscans,  may  be 
found  on  pp.  88  ff  of  the  Mon.  Germ.,  and  337  of  the  Parma 
edition  (an.  1285). 

5.  For  further  information  about  Gerard  and  his  book,  see  Rashdall  i, 

345  flF. 

6.  This  was  of  course  a  pia-aller ;  Frederick,  the  original  Antichrist, 

being  now  dead. 

7.  This  systematic  destruction  of  older  MSS.  for  the  sake  of  fresh 

writings  was  especially  common  in  Italy,  e.g.  the  library  of 
Bobbio,  not  far  from  Parma,  contained  a  very  large  proportion 
of  palimpsests.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  among  modern 
writers  to  exaggerate  the  responsibility  of  the  Reformation  for 
the  destruction  of  books  as  well  as  for  that  of  ancient  buildings. 
Visitations  and  similar  documents  supply  us  with  abundant  evi- 


Appendix  A.  381 

dence  of  books  lost  oi-  decayed  through  the  fault  of  clerical 
custodians ;  it  is  by  no  means  rare  to  hear  of  books  completely 
lost  to  posterity,  as  that  attributed  to  Lazarus,  of  which  Salim- 
bene  tells  us  a  few  pages  lower  down,  and  those  of  which  I  have 
already  spoken  in  note  4  to  chap.  ix.  The  number  of  books 
written  in  monasteries  has  also  been  grossly  exaggerated.  Eudes 
Eigaud's  register  shows  us  that  the  Nonnan  monks  in  Salimbene's 
day  seldom  did  any  writing  at  all.  It  may  be  doubted  whether, 
if  there  had  been  no  Reformation,  we  should  possess  many  more 
medieval  books  and  buildings  than  we  do  at  present.  For  in- 
stance, there  is  more  ancient  stained  glass  left  in  English  than  in 
Italian  churches ;  and  no  country  can  compare  with  ours  in  the 
completeness  of  its  medieval  episcopal  records.  It  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  amount  of  detailed  research  which  still  needs  to 
be  done,  that  so  good  a  scholar  as  Prof.  Medley  can  write  (Social 
England,  illustrated  edition,  vol.  ii,  p.  762)  "  large  numbers  of 
copyists  were  at  work  in  every  monastery  and  nunnery  through- 
out the  land."  This  is  simply  to  accept  uncritically  the  ex- 
aggerated ideas  set  afloat  by  S.  R.  Maitland  in  his  Dark  Ages — 
ideas  which  sprang  out  of  a  natural  reaction  from  the  still  more 
uncritical  acceptance,  a  generation  earlier,  of  Robertson's  mis- 
statements as  to  the  booklessness  of  the  Middle  Ages.  For  the 
small  amount  of  writing  done  in  the  monasteries  of  Normandy, 
even  in  the  13th  century,  and  the  frequent  neglect  of  their 
books,  see  the  Register  of  Abp.  Eudes  Rigaud,  pp.  76,  145, 
339,  361,  407  (2),  496,  556,  556,  572,  577,  578  (2),  585,  593, 
596,  597,  601,  609,  612,  619,  622  (2),  628,  630,  632,  633,  639. 
Even  great  monasteries  like  Eu  and  Tr6port  had  nobody  on 
the  premises  who  could  re-write  the  dilapidated  service-books. 
Compare  the  evidence  of  Nicke's  Norwich  Visitations  (Camden 
Soc,  1888,  pp.  178,  295),  and  of  Gascoigne  (pp.  73,  112),  who 
tells  VIS  plainly  that  the  15th  century  monks  were  rather  des- 
troyers than  producers  of  books. — At  the  Augustinian  Priory  of 
Taunton,  in  1 339,  five  of  the  twenty-three  Brethren  were  unable 
even  to  sign  their  names  to  a  document,  and  therefore  com- 
missioned Brother  John  Coker  to  sign  for  them.  (Reg.  Ead.  de 
Salopia.  Somerset  Record  Soc,  p.  351).  Ct.  Gerson,  de  Latuie 
Script.,  Consid.  x,  and  especially  xii. 

8.  The  seer  thus  raised  up  in  Parma  is  no  doubt  Dante's  Asdente, 

of  whom  Salimbene  will  speak  at  length  later  on. 

9.  See  his  treatise  in  Baluze-Mansi,  Misc.  ii,  p.  695  fF:    especially 

600,  604,  609,  610:  cf.  Bourbon,  p.  25. 

10.     It  is  possible  that  the  pueri  of  this  passage  were  simply  the  city 
loafers,    "  undesirables,"    and    lower    classes    generally.      The 


382  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Chronicon  Parmense  describes  a  similar  scene  of  mob-rule  in 
1294  (Murat.  ix,  827a),  where  pueri  is  evidently  used  in  this 


11.     Here,  for  instance,  are  the  words  of  S.  Giovanni  Capistrano  in  the 
life  of  his  contemporary  S.  Bernardino :  "  All  Italy  then  (about 

1420)  lay  wholly  sunken  in  vices  and  crime There  was  no 

devotion  to  be  found  amongst  Religious  and  Clerics,  no  faith 
among  their  flocks,  no  mercy,  modesty,  or  morality  (discipHna 
morum)."    Savonarola,  of  course,  spoke  equally  strongly. 


Chapter  XIV. 

1.  The  steps  by  which  the  Magdalene  became  one  of  the  greatest 

saints  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  interesting  to  trace.  Many  of  the 
romantic  tales  which  had  grown  up  round  her  and  her  family 
may  be  found  in  the  Golden  Legend  :  but  the  high- water  mark 
is  reached  by  the  pseudo-Cavalca,  whose  legend  of  the  saint  has 
recently  been  translated  by  Miss  Hawtrey  (Lane,  1904). 

2.  For  the  aureola  see  Ducange  (who  quotes  Josephus  Angles  in  4 

Sent,,  dist.  xlix,  art.  6),  and  Bonav.  Compend.  Theol.  Verit., 
lib.  vii,  cap.  29.  This  is  a  work  of  doubtful  authorship :  it  is 
also  ascribed  to  Albertus  Magnus  and  Thomas  Aquinas.  The 
virgins'  crown  will  be  white,  the  martyrs'  red,  and  the  doctors' 
green  :  each  will  proceed  from  a  certain  redundancy  of  spiritual 
loy  shining  forth  in  outward  shape  :  cf.  Dante,  Par.  v,  131-137  ; 
xi,  18;  xvii,  121-123;  xviii,  55-63,  etc.,  etc. 

3.  For  John  of  Parma's  extreme  reverence  see  Angelo  Clareno  in 

Archiv.  ii,  267. 

Chapter  XV. 

1.  Miss  Macdonell  (p.  278)  adduces  it  as  a  special  proof  of  Salimbene's 
curiosity  that  he  should  have  turned  aside  to  see  this  landslip : 
but  he  nowhere  speaks  of  having  actually  seen  it,  and  only  im- 
plies that  he  learnt  what  he  tells  us  on  his  natural  road  from 
Lyons  to  Genoa.  This  fall  of  Mont  Grenier,  more  terrible  even 
than  the  Goldau  catastrophe,  is  mentioned  by  Matthew  Paris 
(an.  1248),  who  attributes  it  to  the  divine  wrath  at  the  greed 
and  lust  and  brigandage  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  valley.  On 
the  other  hand,  Etienne  de  Bourbon  (p.  182)  explains  that  God's 
object  was  to  punish  an  unscrupulous  clerical  politician  named 
Jacques  Bonivard,  who  had  wrongfully  seized   a   priory  near 


Appendix  A.  383 

Chamb^ry,  and  had  no  sooner  taken  possession  than  the  landslip 
overwhelmed  him. 


Chapter  XVI. 

1.  Nicolaus  Anglicus  or  Brito,  bishop  of   Assisi  in  1247.      He  is 

described  as  a  man  of  great  learning  and  high  moral  character. 

2.  For  the  Flagellants  see  Murat.  ix,  704 ;   Affb,  vol.  iii,  p.  259. 

Fleury  an.  1259,  §  62.     Gerson,  vol.  i,  pp.  636-643. 

3.  Boccaccio,  Decameron,  G.  v,  n.  8. 

4.  Kicobaldo  an.  1275,  in  Murat.  ix  :  Chron.  Farm.  an.  1275. 

5.  Vit.  Ex.,  pp.  20,  21. 

6.  I  have  already  pointed  out  in  the  Independent  Review  of  Feb., 

1905  {Medieval  Studies,  no.  3),  how  little  the  contention  of  the 
Marquis  de  B^mbures  in  his  L'Egliae  et  la  Pitie  envera  lea 
Animaiuc  is  borne  out  by  actual  medieval  facts. 

Chapter  XVII. 

1.  Bicobaldi  Ferrarensis  Additamentum  (Murat.  ix,  190c). — Murat. 

ix,  p.  792. 

2.  Dante,  Vita  Nuova.  cap.  iii. — Murat.  ix,  p.  801. 

3.  I  point  out  lower  down  (chap,  xxiii)  how  mistaken  is  the  common 

idea  that  this  sort  of  vandalism  originated  with  the  Reformation  : 
and  I  have  dealt  more  fully  with  the  same  subject  in  Medieval 
Studies,  nos.  3  and  4. 

4.  This  decree  of  the  Synod  of  Milan  is  in  Murat.  ix,  p.  570. 

5.  Cses.  Heist.  Dist.  viii,  c.  52. 

6.  Ptirg.  xxiv,  24. — Salimbene  smacks  his  lips  on  another  page  (572) 

over  the  recollection  of  this  choice  vintage,  Apropos  of  which  he 
quotes  **  the  verses  of  a  certain  buffoon,  who  wrote  : 

♦O  precious  juice  of  the  vine,  what  gift  hath  life  like  thine  t 
If  two  sorts  come  to  the  feast,  then  fill  me  a  cup  of  the  best ! 
Small  is  the  profit  to  me  if  I  suck  down  less  than  three ; 
Sweet  is  the  fourth  full  bowl,  and  deep  is  the  calm  of  my  soul ; 
But  the  fifth  cup  sets  me  adaze,  and  my  memory  all  in  a  maze  ; 
With  the  sixth  I  desire  no  more,  but  sprawl  full  length  on  the  floor.' " 


384  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Chapter  XVIII. 

1.  R.  Bacon,  ed.  Brewer.     R.S.,  p.  402. 

2.  The  transactions  of  Church  Synods  in  the  Middle  Ages  are  full  of 

notices  of  such  tithe  quarrels.  One  of  the  most  interesting  of 
these  is  recorded  in  the  diocese  of  Exeter  at  this  same  time.  It 
was  naturally  the  pettiest  tithes  which  often  caused  the  deepest 
irritation,  and  especially  that  on  milk.  The  parson  preferred  to 
receive  this  in  the  more  convenient  form  of  cheese  :  but  recal- 
citrant parishioners,  as  Bishop  Quivil  complained,  hit  upon  an 
exquisite  artifice  to  rid  themselves  of  the  vexatious  tribute. 
They  "  maliciously  brought  their  tithe  of  milk  to  church  in  its 
raw  state ;  and  then,  more  iniquitous  still,  if  they  found  no  man 
there  to  receive  it,  they  poured  it  out  before  the  altar  to  the  dis- 
honour of  God  and  of  the  Church."     (Wilkins,  Concilia,  ii,  160.) 

Chapter  XIX. 

1.  Miss   Macdonell,   by  some  strange  misunderstanding,   seems  to 

attribute  this  gift  of  mimicry  to  Salimbene  himself  (p.  383). 

2.  "  De  ludo  schacchorum  et  alearum  optime  noverat."     Salimbene  had 

no  business  to  know  this,  for  by  Canon  Law  not  only  were  all 
men  forbidden  to  play  at  games  of  hazard,  but  it  was  sinful  even 
to  abet  or  watch  the  players,  especially  for  an  ecclesiastic ;  and 
this  prohibition  had  been  recently  renewed  by  the  great  Lateran 
Council  of  1215.  Even  chess  enjoyed  a  very  bad  reputation: 
and  St.  Peter  Damian  speaks  of  it  as  a  positively  criminal  game 
for  a  bishop.  St.  Benardino  triumphs  in  the  success  of  a  mission- 
preacher  who  "  burned many  chessboards,  and  converted 

more  souls  than  I  could  tell "  (Prediche  i,  p.  73).  This  was  no 
doubt  because  the  game  was  usually  played  for  money  and  led  to 
much  quarrelling :  a  murder  at  chess  is  among  the  stock  in- 
cidents of  medieval  romance,  and  Salimbene  himself  give  us  an 
instance  later  on  (chap.  xx).  See  B.  Petri  Damiani,  lib.  i, 
ep.  X  (Ed.  Paris,  1743,  t.  iii,  p.  227).  Of.  Rashdall,  vol.  ii, 
p.  671,  and  T.  Wright,  Homes  of  Other  Days,  pp.  214  ff; 
Domestic  Manners,  pp.  198  if.  An  admirable  essay  on  Dante 
and  the  games  of  his  time,  in  which  much  use  is  made  of  Salim- 
bene's  evidence,  has  been  contributed  by  Mr.  E.  Armstrong  to 
the  Modern  Language  Revieiv  (April  and  June,  1906). 

3.  The  Latin  word  acuteus  used  here  by  Salimbene  marks  his  sarcasm 

even  more  plainly.     The  aculeus  or  equuleus  was  a  bar  of  wood 


Appendix  A,  385 

-with  a  sharp  upper  edge,  which  the  victim  was  forced  to  bestride 
as  on  horseback,  with  weights  hung  to  his  ankles.  The  Chronicon 
Parmense  speaks  of  these  mock-trials  as  frequent  during  the  long 
period  of  Ghiberto  da  Gente's  rule  at  Parma.     (Murat.  ix,  778). 

4.  Cf.  Inf.  xxix,  20,  where  the  shade  of  Geri  del  Bello  scorns  hia 

cousin  Dante  for  not  having  continued  the  family  vendetta. 

5.  Prof.  Holder-Egger  points  out  (p.  624,  note  3)  that  Guidolino 

was  elected  in  place  of  a  murdered  abbot,  Landolfo. 

6.  Purg.  vii,  127-129.     How  thoroughly  Italian  Dante's  feeling  was 

on  this  point,  is  shown  by  Benvenuto  da  Imola's  comments  on 
Inferno  xxix,  122  (vol.  ii, p.  409).  "To  understand  this  matter, 
thou  must  know  that  the  French  have  been  from  ancient  times 
the  vainest  of  all  nations,  as  may  often  be  read  in  Julius  Celsus 
(sic),  and  may  be  seen  to-day  in  deed  :  for  we  see  them  daily  in- 
vent new  habits  and  new  shapes  of  garments.  Whence  there  is 
not  a  limb  of  the  Frenchman  which  hath  not  its  own  fashion  : 
for  they  wear  chains  on  their  necks,  bracelets  on  their  arms, 
points  at  their  hose  ;  and  garments  so  short  as  to  show  their 
nakedness  and  the  dishonourable  parts  of  their  body  which  should 
rightly  be  hid :  while  the  honourable  part,  the  head,  whicli 
should  be  shown  free,  is  covered  by  a  hood  over  their  face ;  and 
so  may  it  be  said  of  many  of  their  vanities.  Wherefore  I  marvel 
much,  not  without  indignation  of  mind,  when  I  see  Italians,  and 
especially  our  nobles,  seeking  to  follow  in  these  men's  footste]i8 
and  learning  the  French  tongue,  and  asserting  that  no  tongue  is 
fairer  than  the  French :  which  I  cannot  see  :  for  the  French  is 
a  bastard  of  the  Latin  tongue,  as  plain  experience  showeth.  For, 
since  they  cannot  rightly  pronounce  cavaliero,  they  corrupt  tho 
word  and  say  chevalier :  and  in  like  manner  they  cannot  say 
signor  but  sir,  and  so  with  the  rest.  Whereof  we  have  a  testi- 
mony herein,  that  even  now  when  they  would  fain  say  '  speak  in 
the  vulgar  tongue,'  they  say  'speak  Romance,'  and  their  vulgar 
tongue  is  called  the  Romance.  Wherefore  it  is  not  meet  that 
Italians  should  willingly  submit  their  own  nobility  to  less  noble 
folk." 

7.  Dum  Trutannus  in  m  pateram  tenet,  et  sedet  ad  pir, 
Kegem  Cappadocum  credit  habere  cocum. 

i.e.  "  While  Trutannus  sits  at  the  fire  with  a  wine-pot  in  his 
hand,  he  dreams  he  has  the  king  of  the  Cappadocians  for  his 
cook."  The  reference  is  evidently  to  Horace,  Ep.  i,  6,  39. 
TnUannus  is  the  typical  drunken  vagabond  of  medieval  satire, 
the  Roi  des  Truands  of  Victor  Hugo's  Notre-Dame. 

Ci 


386 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Ghaptkb  XX. 


1.  For  a  long  description  of  this  Nicholas  see  Murat.  ix,  p.  248. 

2.  In  1270  a  fleet  of  Sicilian  and  Genoese  crusaders  was  wrecked  off 

Trapani ;  Charles  of  Anjou  appropriated  everything  of  value 
that  could  be  recovered  from  the  wrecks,  "  alleging  an  injurious 
law  of  King  William  and  a  longstanding  but  infamous  custom." 
Mnraiori  Anrmli  d' Italia,  an.  1270,  and  Scriptt.  vi,  551a.  The 
poisoning  is,  of  course,  referred  to  by  Dante,  Purg.  xx,  69  :  cf. 
the  authorities  quoted  for  and  against  in  Toynbee's  Dante  Dic- 
tionart/y  p.  532. 

3.  It  is  impossible  to  translate  Salimbene's  description  fully,  either 

here  or  lower  down :  but  I  subjoin  a  few  references  to  enable 
the  student  to  realize  how  characteristic  such  scenes  are  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  De  Antiquis  Legibus  Liber  (Camden  Soc, 
p.  75)  describes  the  obscene  mutilations  practised  on  Simon  de 
Montfort's  corpse  for  the  gloating  vengeance  of  a  noble  lady  his 
enemy:  cf.  Ben.  Im.  i,  416,  iii,  111,  and  A.  Schulz.  Hofisches 
Leben.  i,  p.  453.  Such  mutilations  are  spoken  of  as  perfectly 
natural  in  Murat.  Scriptt.  ix,  p.  130. 

4.  Vit.  Ex.,  p.  64. 

5.  La  Tour,  p.  2  and  passim  :  Salimbene,  pp.  27,  67,  427,  429.     In 

the  first  of  these  passages,  Salimbene  is  speaking  of  Nicholas, 
bishop  of  Reggio,  who  "  loved  the  friars  minor  so  well,  that  he 
would  fain  have  given  them  the  cathedral  church  to  occupy  :  and 
the  canons  who  then  held  it  consented  thereto,  and  for  love  of 
the  Brethren  they  would  have  gone  to  occupy  chapels  in  divers 
parts  of  the  city  :  but  the  friars  in  their  humility  would  not 
suffer  this  ;  nay,  they  iitterly  refused  it.  This  bishop  received 
an  accusation  against  his  steward,  that  this  man  was  wont  to 
withdraw  from  the  friars  the  dole  of  bread  which  the  bishop  had 
commanded  :  wherefore  he  called  him  to  his  presence  and  re- 
buked him  sore  (Ecclus.  iv).  Moreover,  knowing,  as  Solomon 
saith,  that  '  a  servant  cannot  be  taught  with  words,  for  he  under- 
standeth  what  thou  sayest  and  scorneth  to  answer,'  he  laid  him 
in  strictest  keeping  within  a  dark  dungeon,  and  fed  him  with 
the  bread  of  tribulation  and  the  water  of  anguish :  after  which 
he  drave  him  forth  from  his  service  :  God's  benison  be  upon  him  ! 
for  he  knew  that  the  race  of  servants  cannot  be  corrected  but  by 
torments,'  as  a  certain  tyrant  said  to  them  that  nourished  St. 
Hippolytus  [in  the  Golden  Legend].  As  Patecchio  saith  '  blessed 
be  the  Marquis  of  Montferrat,  who  was  gentle  to  all  men  but  to 


Appendix  A.  387 

serving-men.'  [Scutifei-is :  literally  squires].  Wretched  fellows  ! 
for  when  they  are  exalted  and  honoured  m  the  courts  of  great 
folk,  then  they  become  miserly,  to  show  themselves  good  hus- 
bands and  guardians  of  their  lords'  goods :  robbing  from  the  poor 
and  the  righteous  that  which  they  waste  afterwards  on  their 
harlots ;  and  meanwhile  in  some  parts  the  wives  and  daughters 
of  their  lords  become  lemans  of  servants  and  stewards  and 
bailiffs,  for  they  can  have  nothing  whatsoever  of  the  goods  of  the 
house  but  by  the  hands  of  such  menials.  Most  avaricious  are 
such  lords,  who  love  their  worldly  goods  better  than  their  own 
honour,  or  the  bodies  of  their  wives  and  daughters  !  Mine  own 
eyes  have  seen  and  proved  all  these  things."  Marriage  itself, 
though  in  theory  a  sacrament  of  the  church,  was  generally  a  more 
or  less  definitely  commercial  bargain ;  and  nobody  needed  to 
visit  Gretna  Green  in  an  age  when  the  mere  promise  by  word  of 
mouth  exchanged  between  two  children  in  the  presence  of  wit- 
nesses constituted  a  perfectly  binding  mari'iage  without  any 
ecclesiastical  formalities,  though  the  priest's  blessing  was  usefiil 
to  guard  from  contingent  difficulties.  Here  is  a  scene  from 
Simeon  Luce's  Du  Guesclin,  p.  139  ff.  "  Cette  frfen^sie  de  luxe, 
oil  se  laisse  emporter  la  noblesse,  n'a  d'%ale  que  la  corruption 
des  raceurs.  Froissart,  cet  historien,  on  pourrait  presque  dire  ce 
chantre  de  la  che valeric,  a  raconte  longuement  un  bnllant  fait 
d'armes  de  Galehaut  de  Ribemont  centre  les  Anglais  .  .  .  Ce  que 
le  chroniqueur  de  Valenciennes  se  garde  bien  de  dire,  et  pourtant 
il  6tait  trop  rapproch^  du  theatre  des  6v6nements  pour  I'ignorer, 
c'est  que  ce  m§me  Galehaut  avait  commis  I'ann^e  precedente 
I'attentat  le  plus  audacieux  dont  les  annales  judiciaires  de  cette 
^poque,  si  riche  pourtant  en  scandales,  aient  gard^  le  souvenir. 
En  1356,  Marie  de  Mortagne,  fille  unique  de  Guillaume  de  Mor- 
tagne,  sire  d'Oudenarde,  est  rest^e  orpheline  k  I'age  de  huit  ou 
neuf  ans,  avec  six  mille  livres  de  revenu  annuel :  c'est  alors  la 
plus  riche  h^riti^re  de  Flandre  et  de  Hainaut.  Aussi,  obtenir  la 
main  de  cette  fiUette  est  le  reve  que  caressent  tous  les  gentils- 
hommes  de  cette  region.  En  attendant  qu'elle  soit  en  dge  de  se 
marier,  Marie  vit  au  chateau  de  Tupigny  sous  la  garde  de  la  dame 
de  Tupigny,  d'Eustache  et  de  Galehaut  de  Ribemont,  ses  cousins 
germains,  impatients  de  voir  murir  cet  ^pi  blond  dont  ils  se 
promettent  bien  les  grains  les  plus  dor^s.  Malheureusement  pour 
eux,  un  chevalier  de  leurs  amis,  Jean  de  Fay,  a  d(^jk  jet^  lui 
aussi,  un  regard  de  convoitise  sur  cette  riche  proie.  Pendant 
qu'Eustache  et  Galehaut  sont  all<5s  servir  le  roi  Jean  dans  cette 
nefaste  expedition  qui  se  termine  par  la  ddfaite  de  Poitiers,  Jean 
profite  de  leur  absence  pour  enlever  ^  I'c^glise  pendant  la  messe, 
avec  I'aide  d'une  de  ses  sceurs  nomm^  C16mence,  la  richissime 
heriti^re.  II  I'emm^ne  en  son  chateau  du  Fay,  trouve  un  pr^tre 
pour  b^nir  leur  maiiage,  et  le  tour  est  jou^.     Quelle  n'est  pas  la 


388  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

d^nvenue  des  deux  Ribemont  lorsqu'k  leur  retour  en  Picardie, 
ils  s'apercoivent  qu'on  lea  a  pr^venus  Un  avide  oiseleur  a  mis  la 
main  sur  la  petite  colombe,  alors  que  lea  premieres  plumes  lui 
poussaient  ^  peine.  Oalehaut,  surtout,  moins  riche  que  son  fr^re 
en  sa  qualit^  de  cadet,  est  inconsolable,  et  il  guette  d^s  lors 
I'occasion  de  reprendre  celle  qu'il  considfere  comme  son  bien. 
Jean  de  Fay  et  Marie  de  Mortagne  sont  marii^s  depuis  plus  de 
deux  ans ;  ils  habitent  le  chateau  du  Fay,  en  Vermandois.  TJn 
matin  qu'ils  reposent  tranquillement  ensemble,  Galehaut,  qui 
s'est  introduit  par  surprise  dans  le  chateau,  envahit  avec  I'aide 
de  Baudas  de  Hennin,  sire  de  Cuvilliers,  chevalier,  de  Colard  de 
la  Cauchie,  de  Bernequin  de  Bailleul  et  de  Bridoulet  d'Atiches, 
^cuyers,  la  chambre  nuptiale,  arrache  Marie  de  Mortagne,  toute 
nue  et  tremblante  de  frayeur,  des  bras  de  son  mari,  puis  la 
conduit  dans  son  manoir  de  Sorel,  situ^  k  quatre  lieues  du  Fay 
ah  il  la  tient  enfermee  dans  une  tour  pendant  plusieurs  semaines. 
Enfin,  comme  la  jeune  femme,  r^volt^e  sans  doute  de  passer  ainsi 
de  main  en  main  comme  une  marchandise  qu'on  s'arrache,  refuse 
de  faire  les  volontes  de  ce  nouveau  ravisseur,  Galehaut,  qui  veut 
que  son  ^quip^  lui  rapporte  au  moins  quelque  chose,  prend  le 
parti  de  transporter  sa  cousine  germaine  an  chateau  de  Dossemer, 
dans  le  souverain  bailliage  de  Lille,  oh.  il  la  vend  en  mariage  k  un 
chevalier  de  Gand,  nomm^  Pierre  Pascharis,  "  au  prix  de  deux 
mille  quatre  cents  florins  d'or,  plus  deux  draps  d'ecarlate."  Yoilk 
le  vilain  revers  de  cette  chevalerie,  affol^e  de  luxe,  de  tournois,  de 
parade,  dont  Froissart  n'a  voulu  voir  que  les  prouesses  et  les 
^l^gances. 

In  war,  the  lot  of  women  was  of  course  infinitely  less  enviable. 
To  quote  Luce  again  (p.  67)  "II  n'est  pas  de  crime  que  Ton  ne 
puisse  se  faire  pardonner  quand  on  sert  fid^lement  le  roi  k  la 
guerre.  Un  chevalier,  nomm^  Guillaume  d'Agneaux,  a  commis  en 
basse  Normandie  quatre  viols  bien  av6r^s,  un  sur  la  personne 
d'une  jeune  tille,  trois  sur  la  personne  de  femmes  niariees,  mais  il 
sert  le  roi  sur  mer  sous  les  ordres  de  Jean  de  Vienne,  amiral  de 
France ;  et  le  sage,  le  pieux  Charles  V  accorde  purement  et  sim- 
plement  k  ce  monstre  le  pardon  de  ses  atrocit^s."  Even  this  is 
out-done  by  the  case  of  Sir  John  Arundel  towards  the  end  of  the 
century.  This  rufiian  and  his  crew  first  carried  ofi"  nuns  whole- 
sale from  a  convent  near  Southampton  and  then  threw  them 
overboard  to  lighten  the  ship  during  a  storm.  (Walsingham, 
R.S.,  vol.  i,  p.  i20,  quoted  in  "Social  England,"  vol.  ii). 

6.  Sacchetti,  Nov.  153. — Giordano  da  Rivalto  Prediche,  p.  250 
(Bologna,  1867).— Ben.  Im.  i,  p.  579.— Archiv.  iii,  107.— 
Bonaventura  Quaest.  xxvi,  circa  Regulam.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
all  taking  of  interest,  directly  or  indirectly,  was  held  a  mortal 
sin,  and  Pope  Clement  V  expressly  declared  in  the  Council  of 


Appendix  A,  389 

Vienne  (1311)  that  it  was  heresy  to  deny  the  wickedness  of 
usury  :  the  offender  was  to  be  excommunicated  and  deprived  of 
Christian  burial  unless  he  repented,  confessed,  and  made  all 
restitution  in  his  power.  This  law  however  was  as  freely  broken 
as  most  others :  we  constantly  find  monasteries  in  debt  to  money- 
lenders :  ev(m  the  best  of  English  bishops  were  compelled  to 
borrow  at  usury  the  enormous  sums  which  had  to  be  paid  to  the 
Papal  court  for  their  appointment :  and  Matthew  Paris  (an.  1250, 
1253),  complains  bitterly  of  the  protection  afforded  by  the  Popes 
to  these  bloodsuckers,  adding,  "In  England  at  this  time  there 
were  scarce  any  who  were  not  taken  in  their  toils."  Usury  was 
perhaps  most  regularly  practised  in  the  South  of  France  (see 
Toynbee,  Dante  Diet.,  art.  Caorsini) :  but  the  Lombard  merchants 
were  also  very  frequently  bankers  :  and  indeed  as  trade  began  to 
grow  in  Europe  it  was  found  impossible  to  carry  it  on  without 
the  forbidden  usury.  In  spite  of  these  hard  facts,  usury  re- 
mained a  mortal  sin  until  long  after  the  Reformation,  in  theory 
at  least :  nor  am  I  aware  that  the  solemn  decision  of  Pope 
Clement  V  has  ever  been  reversed. 

7.  Libellus  Apologeticus  Qusest.  xvi,  in  which  the  saint  deals  with 

the  question  'why  do  you  not  give  more  encouragement  to  the 
Third  Order  r 

8.  Prof.   Holder-Egger  seems  hypercritical  in  pointing  out  that,  as 

Salimbene's  other  data  prove  Bartolino  to  have  stayed  at  Noceto 
only  from  Oct.  27th  to  Dec.  7th  at  most,  thus  "many  days  and 
nights  "  cannot  be  true  (p.  604,  note  1).  Six  weeks — or  even  the 
half  of  six  weeks — would  indeed  be  an  uncomfortably  long  time 
to  spend  under  these  nightly  excursions  and  alarms. 


Chapter  XXI. 

1.  Michelet.  Hist,  de  France,  liv.  xi,  c.l.  M.   Reinach  (Revue  de 

rUniversit^  de  Bruxelles,  Dec.  1904)  has  shown  that  Michelet 
was  too  hasty  in  taking  literally  the  probably  exaggerated  testi- 
mony of  contemporary  witnesses ;  but  the  arguments  by  which 
he  attempts  altogether  to  explode  that  testimony  show  a  strange 
estimate  of  what  is  reasonably  to  be  expected  from  a  15th  century 
law  report. 

2.  The  convents  were  too  often  dumping-grounds  for  natural  children 

of  great  men  :  even  in  the  17th  century,  Wadding  boasts  that  a 
Poor  Clare  of  the  13th  century  was  "the  Intimate  daughter  of 
the  king"  (1259,  p.  117  :  and  he  vaunts  shortly  afterwards  two 
"  legitimate  daughters  of  marquises.") 


390  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

3.  Vitfie  Patrum  ii,  c.  61 :  cf.  Golden  Legend  (Temple  Classics),  vol. 

vii,  p.  79. 

4.  Ana.  Fra.,  vol.  iii,  p.  196.     "A  certain  raven  was  offered  to  St. 

Francis  during  his  lifetime,  and  the  hird  became  so  domesticated 
among  the  Brethren  by  the  merits  of  the  holy  father,  and  so 
learned,  that  he  seemed  endowed  with  human  reason.  For  he 
would  go  into  Choir  with  the  Brethren  at  all  their  Hours ;  and 
while  the  Brethren  washed  their  hands  before  meat,  the  raven 
also  washed  his  beak,  and,  coming  into  the  refectory,  took  his 
food  with  the  Brethren,  and  after  a  while,  by  the  mere  grace  of 
God,  the  bird  began  to  speak  intelligibly.  So  St.  Francis, 
seeing  this  with  amazement  and  joy,  once  in  the  refectory  bade 
him  go  to  the  infirmary  to  care  for  the  sick  and  minister  to  their 
necessities.  Wondrous  to  relate !  Immediately  the  raven,  like 
a  reasonable  creature,  obeyed  the  servant  of  God  implicitly.  Ho 
would  go  through  the  city  of  Assisi  at  the  man  of  God's  bidding, 
with  a  servant  following  him,  and  entering  rich  men's  houses  he 
would  beg  alms  after  his  own  fashion  for  the  sick.  So  men 
naturally  marvelled,  and  gave  alms  to  the  servant,  who  brought 
them  to  the  sick  Brethren.  One  day  when  the  bishop  was  cele- 
brating and  collecting  alms,  the  raven  begged  of  him  according  to 
his  wont.  The  bishop  would  give  nothing  at  the  moment,  but 
promised  to  give  soma  other  time  ;  wherefore  the  raven,  as  if  in 
indignation,  took  the  bishop's  mitre  and  carried  it  to  a  butcher ; 
and  then  taking  meat  for  two  sick  Brethren,  left  him  the  mitre 
as  a  pledge.  The  bishop  wondered  to  hear  this,  and  paid  the 
price  to  recover  his  mitre.  Another  day  a  knight  was  walking 
unshod  through  the  streets  in  summer-time,  and  refused  the 
raven's  prayer  for  alms ;  whereupon  the  bird  ran  after  him  and 
pecked  him  with  his  beak  on  the  shin,  and  the  knight  forthwith 
struck  him  again  with  his  staff.  So  another  day  the  raven  found 
the  aforesaid  knight  riding  between  Assisi  and  the  Portuincula 
with  a  fair  helmet  or  cap  upon  his  head  ;  and,  remembering  how 
the  knight  had  once  struck  him,  he  snatched  the  cap  from  his 
head,  and  left  it  hanging  high  on  a  tree.  So  the  knight  dis- 
mounted and  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  tree  for  his  cap.  But  the 
raven  forthwith  swooped  upon  the  horse,  and  smiting  liim  sore 
with  his  beak,  urged  him  to  a  gallop,  and  so  was  revenged  of  the 
knight.  When  St.  Francis  died,  the  raven  fell  grievously  sick, 
and  would  eat  nothing.  But  when  the  Brethren  told  him  to  go 
to  the  saint's  tomb,  he  obeyed  forthwith,  and  would  not  leave  it, 
or  eat,  or  drink,  but  died  there  of  grief." 

5.  The  phrase  was  doubtless  commonly  current  in  the  Middle  Ages : 

Gower  alludes  to  it  in  speaking  of  the  number  of  evil  clergy  in 
his  day  (Vox  Clamantis,  bk.  iii,  1.  1327). 


Appendix  A.  391 

"  Tales  nee  caste  curant  neque  vivere  caute, 
De  quibus  exempla  sunt  modo  saepe  mala." 

Cf.  Fuller,  Church  History,  bk.  vi,  sect,  iii,  c.  x,  §  7,  "The 
Charta  Magna,  as  I  may  call  it,  of  monastical  practice,  '  si  non 
caste,  tamen  caute.' " 

6.  Miss  Macdounell  (p.  287)  has  misread  this  passage,  evidently  not 

fully  realizing  the  sacrediiess  of  the  Franciscan  habit.  Her 
account  of  the  two  Germans  and  of  Rinaldo  of  Arezzo  on  the 
same  page  is  equally  inaccurate. 

7.  This  too  favourable  description,  "which  Salimbene  no  doubt  heard 

as  a  tradition  in  the  Order,  is  in  direct  variance  with  the  accounts 
of  eye  witnesses,  themselves  of  the  Church  party.  (Murat. 
Scriptt.  torn,  viii,  299  and  694).  Only  five  men  were  murdered, 
but  "  the  violent  plunder  of  the  houses  was  more  than  can  be 
described  or  imagined." 

8.  These  were  the  friars  who  clung  to  the  original  Franciscanism  of 

the  Fioretti  and  the  Mirror  of  Perfection^  and  who  resisted  the 
relaxations  introduced  by  Brother  Elias.  It  is  from  Salimbene 
alone  that  we  learn  the  character  of  the  Legate  who  compelled  the 
German  province  to  conform  to  these  relaxations. 

9.  This  is  the  church  by  which  Dante's  tomb  now  stands. 

10.  i.e.  a  canon  of  the  cathedral.     For  the  steps  by  which  this  title 

came  to  be  applied  exclusively  to  members  of  the  sacred  college, 
see  Ducange,  s.v. 

11.  Prof.  Holder- Egger  points  out  (p.  400,  note  3)  that  the  chronicler 

Thomas  of  Pavia  records  the  finding  of  this  body  in  1231,  and  tells 
how  the  great  Bonaventura  was  glad  to  get  a  single  tooth.  Parma 
is  too  near  Eavenna  for  Salimbene  to  have  successfully  imposed 
on  his  brother-friars  with  a  totally  different  body ;  we  must 
therefore  infer  that  the  relic  had  cheapened  very  much  between 
1231  and  1270,  when  the  archbishop  died.  This  however  is 
a  common  medieval  phenomenon  :  we  may  see  from  inventories 
that  relics  were  constantly  disappearing  from  churches  :  the  charm 
of  novelty  seems  rapidly  to  have  evaporated,  and  they  were 
either  stolen  or  allowed  to  disappear  by  mere  neglect :  for  popular 
worship  was  apt  to  tire  as  quickly  and  as  unaccountably  as  it  had 
sprung  up. 

12.  Much  curious  information  about  contemporary  ladies'  costume  may 

be  found  in  Bourbon,  esp.  pp.  228,  231,  233,  which  cast  inter- 


392  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

esting  sidelights  also  on  contemporary  manners.  Bourbon  is 
specially  indignant  at  their  cosmetics  and  false  hair ;  "they  paint 
themselves  like  idols  "  :  "  they  are  like  images  of  Janus,  old  in 
front  and  young  behind." 


Chapter  XXII. 


1.  Probably  Gerard,  Archbishop-elect  of  Albano,  who  died  in  1211. 

2.  Liutgardis  quoted  in  Hurter's  Innocent  III.,  1.  xxi. — Cses.  Heist. 

dist.  ii.,  cap.  30. — Jac.  de  Marchia  in  Baluze-Mansi  Misc.,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  599. 

3.  Wadding  III,  325:  Thos.  Cant.  II,  x,  21  Eccleston  E.S.  p.  66: 

his  words  are  "  quam  Papa  qiiicunque."  Here,  as  in  other  places, 
Father  Cuthbert's  translation  is  not  true  to  the  too  plain-spoken 
original.  Compare  Pipinus's  account  of  another  papal  deathbed 
(Murat  ix,  750).  '*  Pope  Clement  V  possessed  in  his  life- 
time a  flood  of  riches ;  yet  on  his  deathbed  he  was  stripped  even 
of  his  clothes  by  the  servants,  so  that  only  one  wretched  cloak 
could  be  found  to  cover  his  corpse  withal,  as  was  reported  after- 
wards by  the  Religious  who  were  then  present.  Moreover,  it  is 
said  that  on  the  night  whereon  he  died  he  was  so  deserted  by  all, 
that  his  body  was  partly  burnt  by  the  fire  of  some  tapers  which 
fell  upon  him." 

4.  A  well-known  medieval  romance  of  two  knights  who  had  sworn 

blood-brotherhood. 

5.  This   was   a  common  scriptural   quotation   against  nepotism  :   of 

Grosseteste's  letters.     R.S.  p.  437. 

6.  See  the  satire  quoted  by  Benvenuto  da  Imola  (ii,  408)  upon  the 

sons  of  the  clergy  masquerading  as  their  nephews. — "Saepe 
sacerdotes  filios  dixere  nepotes." 

7.  Prof.    Holder-Egger   quotes   similar  unflattering    descriptions    of 

Honorius  from  other  writers,  including  the  verdict  of  Brunetto 
Latini,  '*  fu  avarissimo  come  cane."     (618,  note  4). 

8.  The  author  of  the  Golden  Legend  speaks  almost  equally  strongly  of 

the  Cardinalate  as  an  upstart  dignity.     Murat.  Scriptt.  ix,  p.  22. 

9.  Cf.  Golden  Legend  (Temple  Classics)  vol.v,  p.  201.    St.  Jerome 

*'  blamed  the  jollity  and  lavish  life  "  of  some  of  the  clergy,  who 


Appendix  A.  393 

revenged  themselves  by  falsely  accusing  him  of  unchastity  : 
whereupon  he  retired  from  Eome  to  Constantinople. 

10.  Salimbene,  as  Prof.  Holder-Egger  points  out,  is  here  parodying  the 

records  of  the  early  Popes  which  he  found  in  the  Liher  Ponti- 
ficalis  of  Ravenna.  The  Professor  appears  to  think  that  nearly 
all  this  speech  is  Salimbene's  own  invention  :  but  the  main  con- 
tents are  in  perfect  harmony  not  only  with  what  we  know  of 
Hugh  from  other  sources  {e.g.  Joinville  §  657,  Angelo  Clareno  in 
Archiv.  II,  282,  and  Ana.  Fra.  Ill,  405),  but  also  with  Grosse- 
teste's  speech  at  Lyons  (Browne,  Fascic  II,  250). 

11.  Matt.  Paris  an.  1251,  and  Petrarch  in  Lea's  Celibacy,  p.  342.      In 

1311  Bp.  Guillaume  Durand  presented  a  petition  to  the  Pope  in 
full  ecumenical  council,  one  clause  of  which  ran  "  moreover  [we 
pray]  that  public  brothels  be  not  held  hard  by  the  Churches  of 
the  Roman  Court  and  hard  by  the  palace  of  the  Lord  Pope,  nor 
near  the  houses  of  prelates  elsewhere  [in  Avignon] .  And  we 
pray  that  the  Lord  Pope's  Marshal  and  other  similar  officers  may 
receive  nothing  from  the  prostitutes  and  pimps  of  the  same 
brothels."  (Baluze.  Vit.  Pap.  Aven.  col.  810).  Benvenuto 
comments  on  Inf.  xix,  106  (II,  59)  "  Wherefore  the  modem 
poet  Petrarch  will  have  it  that  this  great  Babylon  is  Avignon, 
the  new  Babylon  in  France,  which  may  truly  be  called  Babylon 
the  Great,  not  for  the  circuit  of  its  walls  but  for  its  greed  of 
souls  (non  anvbitu  murorum  sed  ambitu  animarum).  She  is  in 
truth  the  mother  of  fornication,  lechery,  and  drunkenness,  full 
of  all  abomination  and  uncleanness,  and  she  sitteth  indeed  be- 
tween the  devouring  waters  of  the  Rhone,  the  Durance  and 
the  Sorga ;  and  the  woman's  adornment  fits  well  with  the  pre- 
lates themselves,  who  are  wrapped  in  with  purple,  gold,  silver, 
and  precious  stones  )  and  that  band  of  prelates  is  indeed  drunken 
with  the  blood  of  the  holy  martyrs  of  Jesus  Christ."  With 
regard  to  Rome,  Benvenuto  (vol.  i,  p.  95)  also  repeats  Boccaccio's 
story  about  the  Jew  who  was  converted  by  the  extreme  wicked- 
ness of  that  city,  arguing  within  himself  that  only  a  true  religion 
could  have  escaped  suffocation  in  such  a  hot-bed  of  vice.  He 
speaks  almost  equally  strongly  below,  p.  118,  and  ii,  186.  For 
Constance  see  Lea,  p.  390. 

12.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  apparent  drift  of  Dr.  Barry's  plea  on  pp.  630, 

652,  of  the  Cambridge  Modem  History,  vol.  I.  For  Gregory 
X,  and  Henry  of  Li^ge  see  Fleury,  an.  1273,  1274. — For  other 
bishops  worthy  to  be  placed  by  Henry's  side  see  Fleury  an.  1245, 
1248,  1251,  1257,  and  Innocent  III,  Epp.  xiv,  125,  xvi,  158: 
and  for  their  general  unpopularity  see  Ana.  Fra.  iii,  648. 


394  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

13.  For  GeofFroi  de  P^ronne  see  also  Peter  of  filois,  Ep.  102,  Caes, 

Heist,  ii,  28,  Etienne  de  Bourbon,  pp.  249,  421. — The  scholar's 
vision,  Ana.  Era.  iii,  297. — Gregory's  complaint,  Fleury,  an. 
1274  :  for  the  other  names  :  ibid.  1260,  1280,  1285,  1294.— Jo. 
Sarisb.  Ep.  166.  (Migne.  Pat.  Lat.  cxcix,  156.) — Caes.  Heist.  II, 
27,  28  :  cf.  39,  40.  In  connection  with  these  and  the  abundant 
similar  quotations  which  might  be  made  from  medieval  documents, 
it  may  interest  some  readers  to  see  a  passage  from  the  Roman 
Catholic  Monitor  (March  22nd,  1901).  "In  reference  to  the 
recent  appointment  of  Dr.  Ingram  it  [the  Church  Times]  declares 
that  '  he  takes  up  a  burden  that  is  almost  frightful,'  and  again, 
'the  burden  is  terrible.  The  strongest  may  bow  and  break 
beneath  it.'  We  believe  the  Church  Times  says  that  which  is 
strictly  true.  The  burden  imposed  on  Dr.  Ingram  is  very 
grievous.  The  language  of  the  Church  Times  confirms  the  truth 
that  the  new  line  of  Bishops  have  not  the  grace  of  Orders  to 
support  them.  Language  of  this  kind  could  not  be  used  of  true 
Catholic  Bishops.  They  have  a  load,  but  they  have  grace  to 
bear  it.  The  task  is  proportioned  to  the  strength.  They  may 
die  under  it  but  they  fall  unconquered  and  glorious.  The  words 
above  quoted  are  neither  Primitive  nor  Catholic."  An  equally 
astounding  historical  mis-statement  about  the  seal  of  confession 
was  made  publicly  for  similar  polemical  purposes  by  Cardinal 
Gibbons  :  see  Lea,  Confession,  I,  414. 

14.  For  Obizzo  see  Chron.  Parm.  an.  1295  :  for  Reggio,  Affarosi  I,  pp. 

227,  252, 

15.  Clement  V  protested  in  a  bull  against  this  introduction  of  hounds 

and  hawks  into  the  sanctuary :  and  Gerson,  a  century  later,  com- 
plained of  the  same  practice,  adding  that  such  animals  showed 
no  more  respect  for  the  sacred  places  than  mere  protestant  beasts. 
Yet,  at  the  very  time  when  Gerson  was  complaining,  the  Menagier 
de  Paris  was  advising  good  folk  to  bring  their  hawks  to  church, 
that  they  might  thus  grow  used  to  crowds  of  men  and  lose  their 
native  shyness  :  and  the  Editor  points  out  in  a  footnote  how 
certain  canonries  carried  with  them  the  express  right  of  bringing 
hawks  into  church.  This  evidence  is  specially  significant,  since 
the  Menagier  is  singled  out  by  M.  L^on  Gautier,  in  his  apology 
for  the  Middle  Ages,  as  one  of  the  four  books  that  give  the 
purest  idea  of  medieval  manners — the  other  three  being  Ville- 
hardouin,  Joiuville,  and  the  Knight  of  La  Tour-Landry.  The 
Chronicon  Pannense  tells  an  amusing  story  of  a  dog  which  for 
twenty  years  always  followed  funerals  into  the  church. — Decret. 
Clement,  lib.  iii,  tit.  xiv,  c. ;  Gerson  ii,  630d.  Menagier  ii,  p. 
296.  L^on  Gautier,  La  Chevalerie  (Paris,  1891),  p.  448.  Murat. 
ix,  779. 


Appendix  A.  395 

16.  Vit.  Exemp.,  p.  2. 

17.  For  Odo  Rigaldi  see  his  Register  (Ed.  Bonnin,  Rouen,  1852):  P. 

Feret,  La  FacuUe  de  Theologie  de  Faris  au  M.-A.  (Paris,  1894, 
etc.);  Hist.  Litt.  de  la  France,  vol.  xxi,  pp.  616  f,  and  a  few 
fresh  and  valuable  details  in  Ana.  Fra.  vol.  iii,  (see  index). 

Chapter  XXIII. 

1 .  The  Yorkshire  Chantry  Surveys  published  by  the  Surtees  Society 

(vols.  91  and  92)  frequently  plead  the  number  of  "  houseling 
people," — i.e.,  those  over  14,  who  were  bound  to  attend  the  yearly 
Easter  communion — in  different  parishes,  as  a  reason  for  not 
suppressing  particular  chantries.  Though  the  parishes  for  which 
these  figures  are  given  are  therefore  naturally  larger  than  the 
average,  yet  the  107  specified  for  the  county  of  York  yield  an 
average  of  only  821  houseling  people — or  from  1,300  to  1,600 
souls — per  parish.  In  the  city  of  York  itself,  the  seventeen 
parishes  specified  had  only  an  average  of  from  400  to  450  souls. 
Merston,  with  only  320  houseling  folk,  is  spoken  of  as  a  "  wide 
and  great  "  parish.  The  only  instances,  I  believe,  in  which  the 
parish  priests  had  to  deal  with  more  than  1,000  houseling  people 
apiece  were  at  Kyldewike  and  Halifax  (pp.  407,  421).  Thorold 
Rogers  calculated  that  England  had  one  priest  to  every  fifty  souls 
in  the  later  Middle  Ages  :  Abbot  Gasquet  is  probably  nearer  the 
truth  in  putting  the  proportion  at  one  to  100.  (Great  Pestilence, 
pp.  166,  205).  Sir  Thomas  More  felt  very  strongly  that  the 
Church  would  have  done  better  with  a  far  smaller  and  more  select 
body  of  ministers  (English  works,  pp.  224,  227).  The  proportion 
of  ministers  of  every  denomination  to  the  present  population  of 
England  seems  to  be  about  one  in  900.  Sacchotti  (Nov.  28) 
shows  us  how  small  was  the  average  Italian  parish,  for  he 
distinctly  implies  that,  as  a  rule,  the  parson  knew  all  his  flock  by 
sight.  Caesarius  speaks  of  a  Lombard  Bishop  who  knew  all  the 
folk  in  his  diocese  :  this  is  probably  a  picturesque  exaggeration 
(ii.  29).  I  owe  the  Norwich  calculation,  with  other  valuable 
information  about  town  life,  to  the  Rev.  W.  Hudson,  F.S.A., 
editor  of  the  Medieval  volume  of  the  Records  ot  the  city  of 
Norwich.  A  quotation  from  Hoeniger  in  Gasquet's  Great 
Pestilence  (p.  66)  goes  some  way  in  support  of  Csesarius's  asser- 
tion as  to  the  size  of  some  German  parishes ;  but  it  must  be 
remembered  that  these  would  be  endowed  to  maintain  more  than 
one  priest. 

2.  His  most  important  writings  from  this  point  of  view  are  the  two 

treatises  in  which  he  defends  the  Friars  against  charges  of  en- 


396  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

croachment  on  the  duties  of  the  parish  clergy  (Libellus  Apologeti- 
cus  and  Quare  Fratres  Minores  Praedicent). 

3.  Bourbon,  p.  259,  quotes  a  Cardinal  Legate  as  asserting  that  the 

devil  gained  more  souls  thus  than  in  any  other  way — whole 
parishes  swept  to  hell  by  communicating  with  an  excommunicate  ! 
Similarly,  the  Bishop  of  Angers  asserted  at  the  council  of  Vienne 
that  it  was  common  to  find  a  parish  with  three  or  four  hundred 
excommunicate,  "  and  I  have  known  one  with  as  many  as  700." 
(Lib.  Guil.  Major,  p.  477  :  cf.  Fleury  an.  ISU.  §  51). 

4.  He  was  a  man  of  some  note  in  the  Order :  see  chap.  x.  above  :  but 

he  must  be  distinguished  from  the  Bro.  Umile  of  the  Fioretti. 

6.  I  give  here  only  supplementary  evidence  to  that  contained  in  Dr. 
Lea's  Confession.  The  allusion  in  my  text  is  to  Caesarius, 
Dist.  iii.,  cap.  47.  Chapters  40-47  of  this  book  are  sufficient  by 
themselves  to  show  that  Salimbene's  descriptions  are  not  exag- 
gerated. Csesarins  there  tells  us  of  the  priest  who,  at  the  Easter 
confession,  would  cast  his  stole  over  six  or  eight  penitents  in  a 
batch,  and  make  them  repeat  a  general  confession  after  him  :  so 
that  his  successor  found  his  flock  willing  to  own  vicariously  to  all 
the  sins  of  the  decalogue,  but  utterly  recalcitrant  to  personal  and 
first-hand  confession.  Another  would  say  off-hand,  "  Do  the  same 
penance  as  my  predecessor  gave  you,"  or  "  the  same  penance  I 
gave  you  last  year."  Some  are  willing  to  absolve  a  heavy  tale  of 
sins  for  the  gift  of  a  hen  and  a  pint  of  wine  ;  another  is  accus- 
tomed to  use  the  confessional  for  blackmailing  purposes :  such 
are  ready  "  to  kill  souls  for  a  handful  of  barley,"  as  Ezekiel  says. 
The  47th  chapter,  referred  to  in  my  text,  should  be  carefully 
studied  by  those  who  believe  that  such  manuals  as  St.  Alfonso 
Liguori's  are  without  danger  in  practice,  and  unclean  only  to  the 
unclean  Protestant  mind.  Csesarius  tells  us  also  of  the  female 
penitent  who  tempts  her  confessor ;  and  again  a  converse  illustra- 
tion which  might  serve  as  a  worthy  pendant  to  the  tale  which  St. 
Bonaventura  told  to  Salimbene.  Nor  does  he  thus  exhaust  his 
stock  of  instances  :  "  I  might  show  thee  by  very  many  examples 
how  great  evils  are  brewed  in  confession  by  wicked  priests  who 
fear  not  God ,  but  I  must  spare  the  Order,  spare  the  sex,  spare 
Religion."  Later  on,  however,  he  so  far  forgets  this  resolve  as  to 
record  an  incident  if  possible  still  more  damning,  though  the  point 
which  interests  him  is  less  the  opportunity  of  seduction  in  the 
confessional  than  the  abuse  of  the  consecrated  Host  as  a  love- 
philtre.  (Dist.  ix.,  cap  6.).  Bourbon  relates  (p.  257)  a  story  of 
a  lady  soliciting  a  Bishop  to  sin  in  the  confessional,  and  bringing 
counter-accusations  against  him  when  he  resisted  her  :  such  anec- 
dotes are  by  no  means  infrequent  in  collections  of  moral  tales. 
But  far  more  damning  are  the  frequent  warnings  of  sober  coun- 


Appendix  A.  397 

sellers  to  ladies  that  they  should  avoid  the  company  of  the  clergy 
as  much  as  possible.  St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  writing  to  her  niece 
in  her  convent  of  Montepulciano,  says  :  "  go  to  confession,  and 
tell  your  need,  and  when  you  have  received  your  penance,  flee  ! 
Take  care,  too,  that  [your  confessors]  be  not  of  those  with  whom 
you  have  been  on  friendly  terms :  and  marvel  not  that  I  speak 
thus,  for  thou  mayst  oft-times  have  heard  me  say  (and  this  is 
truth)  that  conversation  under  the  perverse  title  of  *  spiritual 
fathers'  and  '  spiritual  daughters'  (col  perverse  vocabolo  de'  divoti 
e  delle  divote),  spoils  souls  and  the  customs  and  observances  of 
religious  Orders."  (Lettere.  Ed.  Tommaseo  vol.  I  p.  100.)  The 
reader  will  perhaps  here  remember  what  I  have  already  quoted 
from  Alvarez  Pelayo  about  these  divoti  and  divote,*  and  will  be 
prepared  to  find  the  same  idea  repeated  in  St.  Bernardino's  very 
explicit  warning  to  widows  (Prediche,  vol.  II,  p.  185)  "  0  widow, 
if  thou  be  not  wise,  thou  wilt  take  harm  :  beware  with  whom 
thou  hast  to  converse.  Wilt  thou  do  well  ?  then  have  no  conver- 
sation with  good  or  with  bad  :  oh  !  thou  wouldst  have  good  friars, 
oh  !  thou  would'st  have  holy  priests  :  I  tell  thee  no  !  with  nobody. 
Believe  me,  thou  wilt  do  better  to  stay  at  home. — What  1  may  I 
not  associate  (usare)  with  good  and  holy  men,  that  they  may 
teach  me  1 — Yes,  but  with  a  wall  between  you — Oh,  but  my  de- 
votion which  I  have  taken  upon  myself? — I  tell  thee  no  1  let  it 

be Take  care  to  remove  peril  for  thine  own  part,  and 

thou  wilt  keep  thyself  from  ill  fame,  and  other  men  from  scandals 
and  sins.  .  .  .  Go  not  too  often  to  places  where  thou  may'st 
easily  take  harm.  Stay  not  too  long  in  church  :  take  away  every 
occasion  [of  evil]  ;  give  all  good  example  of  thyself  and  thy 
life.f  .  .  .  Why,  if  it  is  seen  that  one  woman  talks  with  a  friar, 
seven  others  will  murmur  against  her.  And  even  though  their 
converse  be  only  in  church,  and  the  friar  be  there  by  the  side, 
not  speaking  to  her,  they  still  murmur  ;  nay,  if  one  glance  alone 
can  be  caught,  there  is  no  need  of  more  ! "  And  the  saint  goes 
on  to  relate  a  story  which  matches  those  of  Salimbene  on  this 
subject.  Again,  in  the  very  popular  rhymed  precepts  for  girls 
reprinted  by  Montaiglon  (Recueil  de  Pockies.  rran9.  des  xv*  and 
xvi*S8,  vol.  II,  p.  22),  the  moralist  writes : 

Fille,  hormis  coufession 
Seulette  ne  parlez  k  prebstre 
Laissez-Ies  en  leur  eglise  estre, 
Sans  ce  qu  'ilz  hantent  vos  maisons. 

•  Chapter  VI,  note  5, 

t  The  church  was  a  common  trystins-place  for  lovers  :  of.  the  Prologue  to 
Boccaccio's  Decameron  and  Saccnetti,  Serm.  VII,  "men  were  wont  to 
go  to  church  for  prayer :  but  now  they  go  to  drive  bargains  in  all  sorts 
of  sins,  and  specially  in  lechery,  with  all  evils  that  tongue  can  tell." 
Almost  stronger  are  the  words  of  St.  Bernardino  (Opera,  vol.  I,  p.  208). 


398  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

A  similar  warning  by  the  mission-preacher  Geiler  von  Kaisersberg 
is  quoted  by  A.  M(5ray  (Libres  Precheurs,  vol.  II,  p.  149  ;  cf 
vol.  I,  142,  144).  Moreover,  when  the  confessor  was  honest,  he 
was  too  often  a  mere  bungler :  and  the  blessed  Raimondo  da 
Vigna  records  of  his  heroine  St.  Catherine  "  if  this  holy  virgin 
had  had  no  other  afflictions  .  .  .  than  those  brought  upon  her 
by  her  most  indiscreet  [spiritual]  preceptors,  she  might  yet  have 
been  called  a  martyr  for  all  that  she  suffered."  (AA.  SS.  Ap. 
vol.  iii,  p.  882  :  cf.  ibid.  lib.  i,  c.  v,  §  84.) 

6.  Bourbon  p.    268  :  Munim.  Acad.  R.S.  p.  305  :   cf.  Rashdall,  ii, 

689,  note  3. 

7.  A   hoop,   a  branch  of  a  tree,  or  a  wisp  of  straw  were  ordinary 

tavern-signs.  The  first  seems  to  have  been  the  most  usual  on  the 
continent  in  the  13th  century:  David  of  Augsburg  speaks  of  it 
as  the  ordinary  inn-sign  (p.  218)  ;  and  Prof.  Holder- Egger  seems 
to  be  mistaken  in  tracing  a  connexion  between  the  circle  and  the 
clerk's  circular  tonsure.  After  all,  the  hoop  is  still  a  common 
enough  English  sign  :  it  probably  was  at  first  simply  a  barrel-hoop. 

8.  The  earliest  form  of  this  Devil's  Letter  seems  to  be  in  Odo  of 

Cheriton's  sermons  ;  see  Prof.  Holder-Egger's  note.  The  fullest 
account  of  these  documents  may  be  found  in  Wattenbach's  article 
"iiber  erfundene  Briefs  u.s.w."  in  Sitzungsberichte  der  Berliner 
Acad.  1892,  p.  91  ff.  A  reviewer  who  ought  to  have  known  better 
having  questioned  the  pertinence  of  Salimbene's  evidence  here, 
I  may  refer  doubting  readers  to  the  criticisms  of  three  distinguished 
bishops,  and  of  Humbert  de  Romans,  general  of  the  Dominicans, 
before  the  two  great  reforming  councils  of  Lyons  and  Vienne. 
(Raynaldus  an.  1273  §  6  ff :  Labbe-Mansi.  Concilia,  xxiv,  109  ff: 
the  latter  is  summarizod  in  Fleury,  an.  1311,  §  51).  It  is  note- 
worthy that  the  documents  of  1311  show  if  anything  a  worse 
state  of  things  than  those  of  1274. 

9.  Compare  his  versions  of  the  Colyton  and  Culmstock  reports  with 

the  originals  in  Stapeldon's  Register,  pp.  Ill,  130.  I  have  ex- 
posed his  manipulation  of  the  other  evidence  in  the  Contemporary 
Review  for  Oct.  1906  and  the  Churchman  for  Apl.  1907  (reprinted 
as  Medieval  Studies,  nos.  7  and  8).  Guibert  of  Nogent,  speaking 
of  a  gathering  of  important  churchmen  in  the  presence  of  Pope 
Paschal  II,  (d.  1118)  mentions  casually  that  "some  [of  the 
priests]  scarce  knew  the  rudiments  [of  Latin] "  (Migne.  Pat. 
Lat.  156,  col.  913).  St.  Bernardino  (Prediche.  II,  127)  tells  a 
tale  of  four  priests,  who  had  a  heated  dispute  as  to  the  correct 
Latin  for  the  four  words  of  consecration  in  the  Mass — "  This  is 
my  Body."     One  only  could  repeat  the  words  correctly  :  another 


Appendix  A.  399 

was  wont  to  say  Hoc  est  corpusso  meusso,  and  the  last  confessed 
"  I  don't  bother  myself  about  it :  I  just  say  an  Ave  Maria  over 
the  wafer," — thus,  as  the  Saint  remarks,  living  from  day  to  day 
in  mortal  sin,  and  teaching  his  whole  parish  to  commit  idolatry 
by  worshipping  an  unconsecrated  wafer.  The  Bishop  of  Mende, 
in  his  memoir  for  the  Council  of  Vienne  "  se  plaint  que  meme 
entre  les  hommes  lettr^s,  il'  s'en  trouve  tr^  peu  qui  soient  bien 
instruits  de  ce  qui  regarde  les  articles  de  foi  et  le  salut  des  ames, 
ce  qui  les  expose  (ajoute-t-il)  k  la  ris^e  des  intid^les  quand  il  faut 
conf^rer  avec  eux  "  (Fleury,  an.  1311  §  52).  His  colleague,  the 
scarcely  less  distinguished  Bishop  of  Angers,  asserted  on  the  same 
occasion  "  the  law  of  God,  the  articles  of  faith,  and  other  things 
pertaining  to  the  religion  of  the  Christian  faith  and  to  the 
salvation  of  souls,  are  almost  utterly  unknown  to  the  faithful." 
(Lib.  Guil.  Major,  p.  477).  The  other  authorities  referred  to  in 
the  text  are  K.  Bacon,  Ed.  Brewer,  R.S.,  p.  413. — Aquinas 
Contra  Impug.  Eeligion,  cap  iv,  §  10. — Bonaventura  Libell. 
Apologet.  Q.I. — Cses.  Heist,  vii,  4  and  5. — Dialogo  di  Santa 
Caterina,  cap.  129. — Sacchetti  serm.  27,  cf.  Nov.  35. — Labbe 
Concil.  xxii,  col.  1159,  and  xxiii,  col.  458. — Reg.  of.  S.  Osmund 
R.S.,  i,  p.  304.— Od.  Rig.,  pp.  159,  174,  217,  332,  395,  787.— 
Busch.,  p.  441. 

10.  Bp-  Haymo  in  Thorpe's  Registrum  Roffense,  p.  413 — Bert.  Rad. 

Pred.  I.  393.— Gascoigne,  pp.  118,  123— Bern.  Sen.  I,  496,  cf. 
112— Joinville  §§  297,  742  :  cf.  St.  Louis's  life  by  his  Queen's 
Confessor  in  AA.  SS.  Aug.  V,  c,  iii,  §  88. — La  Tour  pp.  40-42. 
— Muller  Anfange  p.  147. — For  the  visitations  see  Od.  Rig.,  Reg. 
Grand  ,  the  Southwell  visitations  (Camden  See.) — Bp.  of  Mende 
in  Labbe-Mansi,  vol.  xi,  p.  536. — Decret.  Clem.  lib.  Ill,  tit.  xiv, 
1.— Ben.  Im.  I,  271.— Bourbon,  p.  185. 

11.  This  proverb  is  quoted  by  the  Wife  of  Bath  :  Cant.  Tales,  D.  389. 

12.  Bert.  Rad.  Pred.  I,  p.  493.— Bern.  Pred.  II,  109.— Gerson,  vol. 

II,  pp.  630  and  641.— Chaucer,  Cant.  Tales  Prol.  376,  449.— 
Grosseteste  (K.S.  p.  162)  enjoined  throughout  his  diocese  "  let 
not  rectors  and  parish  priests  permit  their  parishioners  to  strive 
for  precedence  in  their  procession  with  banners  at  the  yearly 
visitation  of  the  Cathedral  Church  ;  for  thence  not  only  fights 
but  death  are  wont  to  come  about."  Fifty  years  later,  Bp. 
GifFard  of  Worcester  proclaimed  "  in  consequence  of  the  recent 
disturbance  and  drawing  of  blood  in  the  Cathedral  Church  of 
Worcester,  that  all  incumbents  of  churches  and  chapels  shall 
give  out  for  four  Sundays  before  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  that  no 
one  shall  join  in  the  Pentecostal  processions  with  a  sword  or 
other  kinds  of  arms"  (Reg.  Giftard,   p.    422).      In  1364,  Bp. 


400  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Lanpham  of  Ely  repeated  Grosseteste's  complaint  of  occasional 
deaths  on  these  occasions  (Wilkins  III,  61) :  and  a  milder 
complaint  of  the  same  nature  from  a  fifteenth  century  Bp.  of 
Chichester  is  quoted  by  Cutts  (Parish  Priests  and  their  People, 
p.  122). 

13.  See  Denifle's  La  Dt^solation  des  Eglises  passim.      Sacchetti  writes 

(serm.  VII,  on  Matt,  xxi,  13).  **Per  queste  parole  si  puo 
comprendere  come  li  viventi  uomeni  e  donne  son  divoti  al  tempo 
d'oggi  nelli  templi  di  Dio.  lo  per  me  mi  vergognero  quasi  di 
scriverlo,  che  cosa  6  a  dire,  che  ogni  brottura  e  ogni  crimine  e 
peccatto  in  quelli  li  mondani  sono  discorsi  a  usare.  In  molti 
tempi  deir  anno  vanno  li  gioveni  e  le  giovene  donne  vane  alii 
monasterii  a  fare  le  delicate  merende  con  balli  e  canti  e  con 
stormenti,  ladove  ciascuno  da  simile  cose  si  doveria  guardare, 
e  I'onesta  si  rimane  dall'  uno  de'  lati.  Cominciasi  per  li  difetti 
de'  Cristiani  una  guerra.  Conducesi  gente  a  piede  e  a  cavallo : 
non  si  possono  negli  alberghi  delle  terre  questi  tali  acconciare. 
E  dato  loro,  che  si  chiama  alloggiamento  nelle  chiese  di  Dio  ;  e 
qui  con  tutti  li  vizi  che  dire  si  possono,  dimorano  giocando,  dove 
continuo  si  biastemraa  Dio  e'  Santi,  adoperando  la  lussuria  in 
tutti  e  modi  dissoluti,  insino  la  sodomia  a  pi6  degli  altari :  o  per6 
si  puote  bene  dire  aperlamente  oggi :  Vos  fecistis  illam  speluncam 
latronum."  Similar  testimony  is  borne  by  Frati,  p.  82,  and  Bern. 
Sen.  I,  208. 

14.  For  com  and  brewing  in  churches  see  Eeg.  Stapeldon,  p.   337, 

and  Statu ta  Communitatis  Parmse,  p.  320.  It  was  Salimbene's 
friend,  Gerard  of  Modena,  who  obtained  the  removal  of  this 
corn  from  the  cathedral.  Markets  were  held  at  the  same  time  in 
the  Cathedral  of  Ravenna,  and  barrels  stored  there  (Labbe- 
Mansi.  xi,  1583).  The  synod  of  Durham  in  1220  complains  of 
the  dirty  state  of  churches  and  their  use  as  warehouses  (Wilkins 
I,  680) :  one  of  the  most  frequent  subjects  dealt  with  by  church 
synods  in  all  counties  was  that  of  markets,  games,  and  dances  in 
churches  and  churchyards.  For  the  dilapidation  of  the  chuiches 
see  Reg.  Grand,  pp.  570  S  and  604  ff;  Reg.  Stapeldon  passim; 
Visitations  of  St.  Paul's  Churches  (Camden  Soc,  N.S.),  Reg. 
St.  Osmund  (R.S.),  p.  275  ff.  For  the  separation  of  the  sexes, 
Bern.  Sen.  Vita  Cap.  xlix,  and  Savonarola  Serm.  xxvi.  For 
churches  and  lightning,  Bourbon,  p.  269,  cf.  Wadding,  1236, 
420. 

The  best  way  of  explaining  medieval  conditions  to  the  general 
reader  is  to  quote  at  some  length  a  single  visitation  out  of  many 
which  might  be  adduced :  it  is  one  of  those  recorded  in  the 
York  Fabric  Rolls,  (Surtees  Soc.  pp.  242  ff),  and  shows  a  state 
of  things  fairly  common  even  in  the  most  stately   cathedrals. 


Appendix  A.  401 

The  date  is  1409.  "  The  chantry-priests  do  not  celebrate  masses 
as  they  are  bound  by  the  terms  of  their  chantries  :  very  many 
(quam  plures)  masses  are  left  unsung  by  the  defect  of  the  clergy. 
The  dignitaries  do  not  come  to  the  choir  at  double  feasts  and 
feasts  of  nine  lessons,  as  they  should.  The  deacons  and  incense- 
bearers  do  not  come  into  the  choir  as  they  ought :  and  at  the 
time  when  they  are  in  the  choir  they  chatter  and  do  not  behave 
themselves  as  they  ought.  The  choirboys  are  not  taught  as  they 
should  be  in  singing,  nor  do  they  walk  sedately  and  decently,  as 
they  should,  in  the  processions.  Both  dignitaries,  vicars,  and 
other  ministers  wander  about  excessively  and  habitually  (nitnis 
et  communiter)  in  the  Cathedral,  even  while  divine  service  is 
being  celebrated  in  the  choir.  The  books  in  the  choir,  viz.,  two 
called  '  standards,'  and  the  processional  books,  by  reason  of  their 
age,  their  discordance,  and  their  excessive  fewness,  are  too  defective, 
causing  divers  and  numerous  defects  and  discordances  among 
those  who  sing  in  choir.  Part  of  the  Bible,  and  the  books  of 
sermons  from  which  the  Legend  is  read  in  choir,  are  worn-out 
and  defective  in  those  parts  where  the  lessons  are  read.  Within 
the  vestry,  the  proper  sedate  silence  is  not  observed  as  it  should 
be  by  the  Cathedml  ministers ;  but  noisy  disorders  commonly 
take  place  there  while  service  is  being  said  in  the  choir,  and 
especially  while  the  minister  on  duty  for  the  week  is  preparing 
for  the  celebration  of  High  Mass ;  which  disorders  frequently 
impede  and  disturb  the  devotion  of  the  celebrant.  The  prebend- 
aries pay  irregularly  the  salaries  for  the  vicars'  common  hall.  .  .  . 
Very  many  (plura)  vestments  and  ornaments  and  jewels  belonging 
to  divers  chantries  are  in  an  exceedingly  defective  state,  and 
perhaps  some  have  been  made  away  with,  by  the  default  of  the 
custodian  and  of  due  inquisition  in  this  matler  ,  .  .  ."  After 
other  complaints  of  pecuniary  mismanagement  and  defective 
service-books,  the  report  goes  on  :  "  Within  the  Cathedral  and  its 
gates,  and  especially  during  the  greatest  and  most  solemn  festivjds 
of  the  year,  public  markets  (mercimonia)  are  held,  not  witliout 
public,  notorious  and  enormous  degradation  to  the  House  of  God, 
contrary  to  the  teaching  of  the  Gospel.  The  vicars  wander  too 
much  in  the  Cathedral,  with  their  robes  on,  at  time  of  Divine 
Service.  Divers  vicars  are  too  much  given  to  chattering  and 
talking  together  in  the  choir  during  service." 

15.  Bern.  Sen.  i,  490.  For  communion  see  Aquinas  Summa  Pars  iii, 
Q.  Ixxx,  art  x.  (Migne  vol.  iv,  col.  806).  Pope  Anacletus  (he  says) 
had  prescribed  daily  communion  ;  then,  as  faith  gradually  failed, 
Pope  Fabianus  thrice  a  year  at  least :  *'  at  last,  since  the  charity  of 
many  began  to  grow  cold  by  reason  of  the  abundance  of  iniquit}'. 
Innocent  III  enjoined  .  .  .  that  the  faithful  should  communicate 
at  least  once  a  year,  at  Easter."     He  goes  on  to  speak  of  weekly 

Da 


402  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

communion  as  a  counsel  of  perfection.  For  exceptional  devotees 
who  kept  this  see  Ana.  Fra.,  106,  392,  427,  Bourbon  p.  149,  and 
compare  Salimbene's  Guglielmo  di  Sanvitale  "  a  most  conscientious 
youth,  who  would  be  confessed  at  least  once  a  week  "  (62).  For 
clergy  who  grudged  to  let  their  parishioners  communicate,  see 
Caes.  Heist,  dist.  ix,  c.  25,  26,  46  :  in  the  last  case  the  priest 
"  waxed  wroth,  and  answered  with  indignation  *  ye  women  always 
wish  to  communicate  at  your  own  wUl.' "  The  great  Bishop 
of  Mende,  in  his  memoir  for  the  Council  of  Vienne  in  1311, 
suggested  that  the  Church  should  return  to  the  ancient  custom 
of  three  communions  a  year  :  but  among  the  sixteen  articles 
of  complaint  drawn  up  by  the  Devon  rebels  of  1549  was  one 
requiring  that  the  laity  should  go  back  to  the  system  of  yearly 
communions,  the  Reformers  having  increased  the  frequency  of 
celebration,  (Raynaldus.  an.  1311,  §  54  note:  Gairdner,  English 
Ch.  in  the  16th  century,  p.  268.) 

16.  For  baptism,  Sacchetti.  Serm.  xiv.  :  cf.  Gascoigne,  p.  197.     For 

extreme  unction,  Bert.  Rat.  Pred.  i.,  304,  ii.,  89,  and  Wilkins 
Concilia  i,  583,  595,  599,  600,  616,  670,  690  :  ii,  135,  295. 
These  cover  the  years  from  1220  to  1308,  and  cast  an  interesting 
sidelight  on  religious  education  also.  The  reasons  why  parish- 
ioners feared  extreme  unction  are  given  most  fully  in  Bp.  Quivil's 
Constitutions  (ii.  135) :  "  they  foolishly  imagine  that  if  perchance 
they  recover  after  the  reception  of  extreme  unction,  it  is  altogether 
forbidden  them  to  eat  flesh,  go  barefoot,  or  know  their  own  lawful 
spouses  again."  For  confirmation,  see  Wilkins  Concilia  ii.,  53  : 
Fleury  an.  1287  :  Corpus  Chronicorum  Flandriae  ed.  De  Smet, 
vol.  ii,  p.  507  :  Quellen  und  Forschungen  hrsg.  vom.  K.  Pr. 
Historischen  Institut  in  Rom.  (Loescher),  vol.  v,  p.  180.  For 
the  irreverence  bred  of  tithe-quarrels,  see  Wilkins  ii,  p.  160,  and 
passim. — Ben.  Im.  iii,  442  (on  Purg.  xvi,  102) :  Gower,  Mirour 
de  I'omme.  20,  593  ff.  E.  G.  Gardner  in  Hihbert  Journal.  Apl. 
1906,  p.  571. 

17.  Bourbon  pp.  299,  307,  308.     Bert.  Rat.  Pred.  ii,  531 :  cf.  Gerson, 

vol.  i,  p.  204,  268,  849  ;  vol.  ii,  pp.  552,  761,  762,  and  De  Laud. 
Script.,  Consid.  xi.,  xii.  :  Busch.,  p.  731.  Gerson  expressly 
specifies  this  want  of  religious  education  as  a  main  cause  of  the 
notorious  decay  of  the  Church  in  his  days  (early  15th  century). 
For  the  question  of  Bible  reading,  cf.  Trevelyan's  Wy cliff e  pp. 
130,  361,  and  the  Church  Quarterly  Review  for  Oct.,  1900,  and 
Jan.,  1901,  where  Abbot  Gasquet's  misstatements  on  this  subject 
are  exposed.  The  Church  Qu^arteiiy  points  out  (p.  285)  how, 
after  Mr.  F.  D.  Matthew  had  exposed  in  the  Enylish  Historical 
Review  a  definite  and  fundamental  misstatement  of  fact  by  the 
Abbot,  the  latter  yet  reprinted  this  part  of  his  essay  without 


Appendix  A.  403 

correction,  although  he  attempted  to  meet  other  criticisms  of  Mr. 
Matthew's.  I  have  further  shown  that  even  Sir  Thomas  More, 
from  whose  apologetic  writings  the  Abbot  had  quoted  to  show 
that  the  Church  went  on  the  principle  of  "  the  open  Bible,"  very 
definitely  repudiates  that  principle.  Not  only  does  More  admit 
that  no  orthodox  writer  had  made  any  translation  which  any 
printer  would  dare  to  publish  in  the  face  of  ecclesiastical  censure, 
but  he  further  asserts  his  own  conviction  that  the  most  orthodox 
translations  ought  to  be  lent  by  the  Bishop  only  with  great  pre- 
cautions "  to  such  as  he  perceive th  honest,"  and  that  even  to  such 
well-meaning  students  the  Bishop  might  well  forbid  the  reading 
of  St.  John's  Gospel  or  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  as  liable  to 
misinterpretation.  {Contemporary  Review,  Oct.,  1906,  reprinted 
in  Medieval  Studies,  No.  7). 

18.  One  of  the  best  instances  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  Book  of  the 

Knight  of  La  Tour-Landry,  written  (as  he  assures  us)  with  the 
help  of  four  clerics,  of  whom  two  were  priests.  His  distortions 
of  Bible  narrative  are  almost  incredible :  the  story  of  Ruth,  for 
instance,  contains  scarcely  more  than  the  heroine's  name  in 
common  with  the  scripture  narrative,     (p.  3  :  of  chap,  xci.) 

19.  Baluze-Mansi,  Misc.  ii.,  600,  610.     Bourbon,  p.  286.     Bern.  Sen. 

vol.  i,  p.  431. 


Chapter  XXIV. 

1.  Cont.  Cels  vii.  44  (Ed.  Spencer,  p.  362.)     A  part  of  this  is  quoted 

in  Dr.  Littledale's  "  Plain  Reasons,"  and  is  prudently  ignored  by 
the  Roman  Catholic  Father  Ryder  in  his  reply.  There  are  in 
Father  Ryder's  book  several  similar  instances  of  convenient 
blindness  to  facts  which  it  would  be  difficult  either  to  deny  or  to 
explain  away. 

2.  But  see  Lea,  Inquisition,  iii.  91,  for  the  extent  to  which  bishops 

still  exercised  the  right. 

3.  Fleury.  an.  1264     §26. 

4.  Further  references  to  Alberto  and  to  Punzilovo  may  be  found  in 

Lea's  History  of  the  Inquisition.  Compare  Guib.  Nov.,  p.  614  : 
but  th6  whole  of  this  treatise  should  be  studied.  For  the  gain 
accruing  to  the  clergy  from  these  new  saints  see  ibid. :  also 
Sacchetti's  Letter  to  Giacomo  di  Conte.  (Serm.  p.  214  ff.),  quoted 
below  in  my  text.  The  Church  councils  of  Rouen  (1445)  and 
Angers  (1448)  make  the  same  complaint :  the  former  even  forbids 


404  From  St  Francis  to  Dante. 

giving  names  to  different  images  (our  Lady  of  Eedemption,  our 
Lady  of  Pity,  of  Consolation,  of  Grace,  etc.)  as  an  invention 
probably  due  to  the  desire  of  squeezing  more  money  from  men's 
pockets.  Abbot  Gasquet,  in  his  Eve  of  the  Reformation,  speaks 
of  the  alleged  connection  between  saint-worship  and  clerical  greed 
with  a  bland  ridicule  which  carries  weight  only  with  readers 
accustomed  to  modern  enlightenment  and  modern  ideals  of  clerical 
honesty.  If  he  had  taken  the  trouble  to  look  into  the  actual 
evidence,  he  would  have  found  himself  compelled,  in  common 
prudence,  to  leave  the  question  alone. 

5.  For  this  canonization  see  Father  Denifle's  short  article  in  Archiv.  iv, 

349  :  also  Baluze.  Vit.  Pap.  Aven.  i,  413. 

6.  For  the  Santo  Volto,  or  miraculous   portrait   of   Christ,    see   the 

demon's  scoff  in  Inf.  xxi,  48.  Benvenuto  (ii,  106)  tells  the 
legend  that  Nicodemus  painted  it,  with  other  marvellous  details ; 
but  he  adds :  "  Believe  thou  as  much  of  this  as  thou  wilt,  for  it 
is  not  one  of  the  Articles  of  Faith." 

7.  The   Magdalene's   abstinence   from  food  Avas  (as  we  are  assured) 

rivalled  by  St.  Catherine  of  Siena  alone,  who  became  in  conse- 
quence so  emaciated  "  ut  in  obitu  repertum  sit,  umbilicum  ejus 
renibus  adhaerere."  So  at  least  reports  one  of  her  confessors, 
Fra  Tommaso  Caffarini  (A  A.  SS.  Ap.  vol.  iii,  p.  877  note). 

8.  Even  Innocent  III,  as  I  have  pointed  out  above,  was  obliged  to 

acknowledge  the  same  embarrassment  in  dealing  with  these  dupli- 
cate relics  :  "  it  is  better  to  commit  all  to  God  than  to  define  rashly 
either  way,"  (see  note  9  to  chap.  III). 

9.  Joinville  §  46  "  [St.  Louis]  told  me  how  William  Bishop  of  Paris 

[1228-1248]  had  spoken  to  Jiim  of  a  great  Doctor  of  Divinity 
who  had  come  to  him  saying  that  he  would  fain  speak  with  him. 
Then  said  the  Bishop  :  '  Doctor,  tell  me  your  will.'  And  when 
he  would  fain  have  spoken  to  the  Bishop,  he  fell  to  weeping  most 
bitterly.  So  the  Bishop  said  to  him  'Doctor,  say  on,  be  not  dis- 
consolate :  for  no  man  can  sin  so  sore  as  that  God  can  no  more 
pardon  him.'  '  And  I  say  unto  you,  my  Lord,'  said  the  Doctor, 
'  that  I  cannot  keep  back  ray  tears,  for  I  hold  myself  an  infidel, 
since  I  cannot  bring  my  heart  to  believe  in  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Altar,  as  Holy  Church  teaches  it:  and  I  know  well  that  this  is 
one  of  the  Devil's  temptations.' "  The  Bishop,  with  admirable 
sense,  comforted  him  by  pointing  out  how  such  trials  only  gave 
him  the  opportunity  of  showing  his  essential  faith,  cf.  Gerson, 
Tractatus  de  Foeda  Tentatione  in  the  4th  vol.  of  his  works : 
Busch.  Lib.  Kef.,  cap.  ii.,  (p.  395). 


Appendix  A.  405 

10.  For  St  Louis  see  the  remarkable  anecdote  in  Ana.  Fra.,  vol.  i,  p. 
413  ff.  "  One  day  a  certain  God-fearing  knight,  very  familiar 
and  intimate  with  St.  Louis,  said  to  him  :  '  my  lord,  I  will  depart 
from  your  court,  for  I  can  bear  it  no  longer.'  '  Why  so  1 '  asked 
the  King.  '  By  reason,'  said  the  knight,  *  of  that  which  I  hear 
and  see.'  For  he  heard  pestilent  folk  reviling  the  King,  who 
(they  said)  bore  himself  rather  like  a  monk  than  a  king.  So  St. 
Louis  said,  'have  patience;  I  will  by  no  means  suffer  thee  to 
leave  me  :  as  often  as  thou  wilt  let  us  go  apart  from  these  worldly 
folk,  and  comfort  each  other  by  talking  of  God  and  heavenly 
things.  Care  not  for  the  words  of  fools :  I  will  tell  thee  that 
which  befalls  me  sometimes  as  I  sit  in  my  bed-chamber.  I  hear 
some  crying  "  Brother  Louis  !  "  [as  to  a  friar,]  and  cursing  me, 
not  thinking  to  be  heard  of  me.  Then  I  think  within  myself 
that  I  might  cause  them  to  be  slain ;  but  I  see  that  this  befalls 
me  for  my  great  good,  if  I  bear  it  patiently  for  God's  sake  :  and 
in  truth  I  say  unto  thee,  that  I  am  not  displeased  at  this  injury 
which  they  do  to  me.' " 


Chapter  XXV. 

1.  Dante.    Convivio.  Trat.  iv,  c.  28.    Giles  in  Ana.  Fra.  iii,  112,  296. 

For  Umiliana,  Wadding  an.  1246,  p.  157,  cf.  Bern.  Bess.  p.  321, 
Cses.  Heist.,  ii,  19.  St.  Louis'  Life,  by  Q.  Margaret's  Confessor 
(in  AA.  SS.),  cap.  v,  §  56.  Dav.  Aug.  De.  Ext.  et.  Int. 
Hominis  Compositione  Lib.  Ill,  c.  66. 

2.  St.  Edmund  Rich  in  Golden  Legend  (Temple  Classics),  vol.  vi,  p. 

234.  St.  Dominic  in  Lives  of  the  Brethren,  tr.  J.  P.  Conway 
(Newcastle,  1896),  p.  290.  For  these  devilish  suggestions  see 
Dav.  Aug.  p.  360,  Bonaventura  Sermo  vi.  de  Decem  Praeceptis, 
and  Bourbon,  p.  199.  Many  similar  pseudo-divine  appearances, 
counselling  suicide  or  homicide  or  other  deadly  sins  as  special 
degrees  of  religious  perfection,  may  be  found  in  Wadding,  an. 
1253,  pp.  317  foil.;  1261,  141,  1293,  317  (cf.  1291,  253,  and 
the  quotation  from  Alvarez  Pelayo,  1318,  §  43).  St.  Bernard 
Sermo  vi,  de  x.  Praeceptis :  Vitry  Ex.  p.  34  :  24  Gen.  pp.  308 
foil.  (cf.  315) :  Kenan's  "  Christine  de  Stommeln,"  in  Nouvelles 
Etudes,  p.  353  ff.  Cses.  Heist,  iii.  127  :  Thos.  Cant.  Lib.  ii.  c.  i. 
§  14.  An  instance  given  by  Wadding  (1322,  45)  specifies  the 
fados  tactus  which  are  probably  referred  to  here  by  Salimbene, 
and  certainly  by  David  of  Augsburg.  For  the  devils  like  flies 
see  Wadding  loc.  cit. 

3.  An  exactly  similar  occurrence  in  Spain  is  told  in  Analecta  Francis- 

cana,  iii,  309  :  cf.  Vitry,  Exempla  p.  34.    Sir  Thomas  More  tells 


4o6  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

a  similar  story  of  a  woman  who  hoped  to  attain  canonization  by 
suicide  {English  Works,  p.  1188) ;  and  another  of  a  carver  who 
wanted  his  wife  to  crucify  him  on  Good  Friday  (p.  1193). 

4.  (p.  257)  There  is  in  the  original  no  trace  of  the  almost  treacherous 
change  of  tone  of  which  she  complains. 

6.  Csesarius  alone  gives  many  instances  of  this  immoral  teaching 
about  confession  (ii.  23  ;  iii.  2,  3,  6,  18  :  x.  35),  and  many  more 
may  be  found  in  the  note  to  Bourbon,  p.  448  :  cf.  AihencBum, 
No.  4025,  p.  834. 

6.  Eccleston  (R.S.,  p.  72)  gives  an  equally  uncomplimentary  account 

of  the  origin  of  these  Friars  of  the  Sack.  For  the  Third  Order 
see  Bonav.  Libell.  Apol.  xvi. 

7.  For  Segarello  and  Dolcino  see  Lea's  Inquisition,  vol.  iii,  p.  103  ff. 

8.  Even  St.  Bonaventura  seems  to  attach   real   importance   to   this 

Jesuitical  distinction:  see  his  Epistle  of  1257  ....  "pecunia, 
nostri  Ordinis  paupertati  super  omnia  inimica,  avide  petitur, 
incaute  recipitur  et  incautius  contrectatur."  Ubertino  da  Casale, 
a  few  years  later,  describes  how  the  Friars  who  collected  large 
sums  of  money  salved  their  consciences  by  keeping  a  servant  to 
touch  it,  though  they  kept  the  key  of  the  bag  to  themselves. 
(Archiv.  Ill,  67). 

9.  ' Lana  caprina:'  see  Horace  Epist.  I,  xviii,  15.      The  fifth  wheel 

of  a  waggon,  '  quinta  rota  plaustri,'  is  a  favourite  phrase  of 
Salimbene's  for  an  insignificant  trifle  :  it  is  used  also  by  Matthew 
Paris. 

10.  *  Qavdent  novitate  niodemi,'  a  tag  of  a  verse  which  is  quoted  in 

another  thirteenth  century  chronicle,  as  Prof.  Holder- Egger  points 
out,  and  (in  a  slightly  difi"erent  form)  by  Bp.  Guillaume  le  Maire 
of  Angers. 

11.  This,  of  course,  is  the  "Boy  Bishop,"  an  institution  closely  con- 

nected with  the  Feast  of  Fools.  Abbot  Gasquet  describes  it 
with  characteristic  inaccuracy  on  pp.  165  ff.  of  his  Parish  Life  in 
Medieval  England,  suppressing  in  his  quotation  from  the  Sarum 
Statutes  Bishop  Mortival's  complaint  of  the  "  manifold  dis- 
orders" which  formerly  had  caused  "some  damage  both  to 
persons  and  to  the  Cathedral,"  (see  Eock.  Church  of  our  Fathers, 
ed.  Frere,  vol.  iv,  p.  255,  note).  The  Boy  Bishop  was  in  fact 
long  tolerated  even  by  the  pious  prelates  who  (like  Grosseteste) 
looked  upon  the  Feast  of  Fools  as   downright  devilish  :   but 


Appendix  A.  407 

already  in  1260  the  provincial  Council  of  Cognac  forbade  it;  and 
it  was  formally  abolished  by  a  decree  of  the  ecumenical  council 
of  Bale  in  1431.  It  lingered  long,  however,  and  was  only 
killed  at  last  by  the  Reformation  and  the  Counter-Eeformation. 

12.  Prof.  Holder-Egger  refers  this  to  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Michael  on 

Monte  Gargano :  but,  as  Salimbene  lays  evident  stress  on  the 
distances  covered  by  these  pilgrims,  it  is  possible  that  he  may 
refer  to  the  French  sanctuary, 

13.  See  Father  Denifle's  essay  in  Archiv.  IV,    330   ff.      A  certain 

Radulfus,  about  1290,  got  it  into  his  head  that  whenever  the 
word  nemo  {no  man)  occurred  in  Latin  writings,  it  was  no  mere 
negation,  but  referred  to  a  person  of  that  name,  whom  he 
proved  to  be  identical  with  the  Son  in  the  Holy  Trinity.  His 
own  reading  (as  may  well  be  believed)  was  small  :  but  he  paid 
monks  and  clerks  to  make  a  collection  of  such  passages,  mainly 
from  the  Bible,  from  which  he  composed  a  "  Sermon  upon 
Nemo "  which  he  dedicated  to  Cardinal  Benedict  Caietan, 
afterwards  Boniface  VIII.  The  sermon  still  exists  in  different 
versions,  and  an  adversary  assures  us  that  Radulfus  founded  a 
sect  of  Neminians,  among  whom  he  names  Peter  of  Limoges. 
This  adversary,  Stepbanus  de  S.  Georgio,  **  must  have  been  as 
great  a  fool  as  Radulfus  to  think  of  refuting  him,"  as  Denifle 
truly  remarks.  Here  is  the  beginning  of  Radulf  iis's  sermon  : — 
**  Beloved,  God  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spoke  in 
times  past  to  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  who  preached  darkly 
and  with  uncertain  voice  that  the  Only  Begotten  Son  of  God 
would  come  to  redeem  those  who  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death ;  but  in  these  last  days  He  speaketh  openly  by 
His  Holy  Scripture,  preaching,  setting  forth,  and  testifying  the 
most  blessed  Noman  as  His  own  compeer,  born  before  all  ages, 
(as  it  is  written  in  the  138th  Psalm  [v.  16],  'days  shall  be 
formed,  and  Noman  in  them : '  that  is.  He  was  before  the 
Prophet  David  himself),  yet  hitherto  unknown  to  mankind  by 
reason  of  their  sins.  But  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Himself,  whose 
nature  it  ever  is  to  spare  and  show  pity,  and  Who  never  leaves 
His  own  unheard,  hath  taken  pity  on  the  people  redeemed  by 
His  precious  blood ;  and,  having  removed  the  old  darkness 
altogether  from  our  eyes,  hath  vouchsafed  to  discover  to  us  the 
precious  treasure  of  this  most  glorious  Noman ;  that  whereas,  to 
our  great  loss,  he  hath  hitherto  been  hidden,  we  may  be  able 
henceforth  to  behold  him  with  the  eye  of  faith.  The  blessed 
Noman,  therefore,  is  found  in  Holy  Scripture  to  be  co-eval  with 
God  the  Father,  and  in  essence  most  like  unto  the  Son,  as  not 
created  nor  proceeding,  but  born  :  wherein  this  is  plainly  said 
by  the  Psalmist,  '  Days  shall  be  formed,  and  Noman  in  them.' 


4o8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Afterwards  his  authority  grew  deservedly  so  great  that,  as 
though  scorning  earthly  things,  he  soared  with  marvellous  flight 
to  the  highest  heaven,  as  it  is  written  '  Noman  hath  ascended 
into  heaven.'  "  And  so  on,  through,  **  Noman  hath  seen  God," 
"  Noman  knoweth  the  Father,"  "  Noman  knoweth  the  Son," 
"  Noman  can  do  these  signs  which  thou  dost,"  and  a  long 
catalogue  of  similar  quotations.  Stephanus,  in  his  treatise 
addressed  to  the  same  Cardinal  Caietan,  takes  these  quotations 
one  by  one,  and  explains  each  painfully  away  :  after  which  he 
proceeds  to  confute  Kadulfus  by  a  string  of  counter-quotations 
from  the  Decretals:  e.g.,  "Noman  sunk  in  sin,"  "to  Noman 
did  God  give  easy  occasion  of  sin,"  "  to  Noman  doth  the  Church 
shut  her  breast  when  he  would  fain  return  :"  and  he  clenches  the 
matter  with  the  triumphant  argument  that  God,  Who  would 
have  all  men  saved,  would  therefore  have  Noman  damned  ever- 
lastingly :  after  which  he  concludes  by  calling  on  the  secular 
and  religious  authorities  present  at  the  Provincial  Council  of 
Paris  to  burn  these  Neminians  and  their  writings.  One  might 
be  tempted  to  take  it  all  for  an  elaborate  hoax  but  for  the 
abundant  medieval  evidence  of  the  same  sort,  and  for  the  fact 
that  Stephen's  memoir  is  solemnly  filed  among  the  Vatican 
archives. 


Chapter  XXVI. 

1.  Part  of  this  chapter  appeared  in  a  rather  fuller  form  in  the  Hibbert 

Journal  for  Jan.,  1 907.  It  was  attacked  in  April  by  the  Fran- 
ciscan Fathers  Cuthbert  and  Stanislaus,  with  great  vehemence 
but  little  pretence  of  documentary  proof.  A  little  of  this  will 
appear  in  my  rejoinder  (July)  :  but  consideration  for  the  Editor's 
space  obliged  me  to  postpone  the  full  exposure  of  their  ignorance 
on  elementary  points  of  Franciscan  history  to  a  separate  reissue 
of  the  article  [Medieval  Studies,  No.  9). 

2.  Father  Cuthbert's  attempt  to  contrast  the  "  gloomy,  laughter-lack- 

ing spirit"  of  the  "sectary''  with  the  holy  joy  of  the  Friars  is 
not  only  inconsistent  with  the  tenour  of  Franciscan  disciplinary 
writings,  but  is  contradicted  by  so  well-known  an  authority  as 
Brother  Leo,  who  assures  us  that  St.  Francis  himself  "did 
specially  abhor  laughter  "  [Mirror  §  96).  The  strict  Franciscan 
was  as  a  rule  cheerful  only  in  comparison  with  the  lachrymose 
piety  of  the  other  Religious  of  the  Middle  Ages :  many  of  his 
tenets  were  such  as  are  emphasized  now  only  by  gloomy  fanatics. 
I  have  pointed  this  out  at  length  in  Medieval  Studies,  Nos.  iii 
and  iv. 


Appendix  A.  409 

3.  "  Usque  ad  umbilicum  ante  et  usque  ad  renes  retro,  btoscum  tunicce 

sacco  operientes."  This,  and  the  habit  of  wearing  the  second 
frock  over  the  first,  gave  the  early  Friars'  figures  that  extraordin- 
arily unwieldy  shape  which  we  see  in  Giotto's  pictures.  See 
Ubertino  in  Archiv.  iii,  173  fi".,  which  is  full  of  curious  details 
about  the  Friars'  dress. 

4.  Miss  Macdonell,  not  recognizing  the  reference  to  the  Rule,  has 

again  been  misled  by  the  Italian  translation  and  missed  the  point 
of  this  passage. 

6.  For  the  quibbles  about  money,  etc.,  see  for  instance  Archiv.  iii., 
p.  150,  and  Bonaventura  Lib.  Apol.  Q.  6,  13,  18.  For  monks' 
pocket-money,  Kitchin's  Obedientiary  Rolls  (Hampshire  Record 
Soc.),  pp.  94,  95  :  Jessopp's  Norwich  Visitations  (Camden  Soc, 
p.  77,  ^ndi  passim.)  :  for  the  vain  attempts  to  check  this  abuse 
see  the  various  General  Chapter  Acts  of  the  Benedictines  given 
by  Wilkins  and  Reynerus. 

5a.  Eccleston's  words  are  (R.S.  p.  18)  "Et  sic  aedificabant  fratres 
capellam  ita  pauperrimam,  ut  unus  carpentarius  in  una  die 
faceret,  et  erigeret  una  die  xiv  coplas  tignorum" — "and  so  the 
Brethren  built  a  chapel  so  miserably  poor  that  a  single  carpenter 
made  in  one  day,  and  set  up  in  one  day,  14  pairs  of  rafters" 
(see  Ducange  s.  v.  Cupla).  I  am  infonned  by  an  intelligent 
carpenter  that  this  would  point  to  a  building  some  20  or  25  feet 
long  by  10  or  12  broad :  the  rafters  would  in  this  case  be  from 
7  to  9  feet  long  each,  and  it  would  be  a  man's  work  to  cut  them 
one  day  out  of  the  rough  spars,  and  set  them  up  in  another  day. 
Indeed,  it  would  scarcely  be  possible  for  a  single  man  to  set  up 
unaided  any  larger  rafters  than  these.  We  have  here  a  miser- 
ably small  chapel  indeed,  but  far  from  Prof.  Brewer's  "their 
chapel  was  erected  by  a  single  carpenter  in  one  day,"  or  Father 
Cuthbert's  "one  carpenter  built  it  in  one  day." 

6.  See  Mr.  Hudson's  excellent  little  History  of  the  Parish  of  St.  Peter 

Permountergate  "  (Norwich  1889). 

7.  Bernard  of  Besse  in  Ana.  Fra.  iii,  p.  674.     For  friaries  inside 

towns  see  Archiv.  ii  258,  and  iii.  84,  116  :  Bonav.  Libell.  Apol. 
Q.,  vL,  xix. 

8.  The  friar's  money-box  is  very  conspicuous  in  the   23rd   cut  of 

Holbein's  Dance  of  Death.  (Lyon,  1538.)  For  Ubertino's 
complaints  see  Archiv.  iii.  70,  104  :  for  Landshut,  see  Eubel. 
Oberdeutsche  Minoritenprovinz  (Wiirzburg,  1886),  p.  239,  cf. 
Archiv.  iii.  105.  For  the  unpopularity  which  this  begging  bred 
see  Archiv.  iii.,  105,  and  St.  Bonaventura's  two  Circular  Letters. 


41  o  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

9.  Monte  Casale  in  Fioretti  i.  c.  26  :  its  abandonment  is  recorded  in 
Eubel.  Provinciale,  §  143.  Bozon.  Ed.  Toulmin  Smith  (Soc.  des 
Anciens  Textes  Fran9ais,  1889),  p.  35.  Cf.  Bonav.  Quaest.  circ. 
Reg.  xxvi,  and  Archiv.  iiL  107,  165. 

10.  For  evictions  of  clergy,  cf.  Bonav.  Lib.  Apol.  Q.  xi.  :  for  friar 

unpopularity  with  parish  priests,  ib.  Qusest.  X. 

11.  Ubertino  in  Archiv.  iii,  67. 

12.  Jordan  in  Vit.  Frat.  p.  138.     Eccleston,  R.S.,  p.  59  :  Bern.  Bess. 

p.  371,  384. 

13.  Life  in  a  Modem  Monastery,  pp.  53  foil.     This  book,  and  the 

equally  interesting  Twelve  years  in  a  Monastery,  describe  a  state 
of  things  extraordinarily  similar  in  most  respects  to  what  may 
be  gathered  from  medieval  documents.  The  similarity  is  all  the 
more  striking  because  the  author  had  evidently  not  studied  the 
inner  history  of  his  Order  in  the  past. 

14.  Here,  for  instance,  is  an  extract  from  the  diary  of  one  of  the 

strictest  prelates  of  the  Middle  Ages,  Archbishop  Eudes  Rigand 
of  Rouen  (p.  42).  He  is  visiting  a  Chapter  at  Pontoise. 
"  Richard  de  Triguel  is  accused  of  sin  with  a  certain  prostitute ; 
yet  there  was  no  great  scandal :  we  warned  him  to  desist.  Again 
Master  Robert  is  accused  with  the  gardener's  daughter,  and  has 
but  lately  had  a  child  by  her,  but  the  scandal  is  not  great :  we 
warned  him  to  desist.  Moreover,  he  behaves  improperly  in 
going  barefooted  outside  his  door  to  a  certain  workshop  where 
women  of  ill  fame  are  often  congregated  :  we  warned  him  to 
desist  from  such  behaviour."  (p.  42.)  This  hushing-up  spirit  is 
constantly  traceable  in  medieval  visitation  records ;  cf .  Gower 
Mirour  de  I'Omme.  1.  20,137,  and  Mr.  A.  F.  Leach's  preface  to 
the  Southwell  visitations.  (Camden  Soc,  pp.  Ixxv,  Ixxxv, 
Ixxxix).  Ubertino  da  Casale  and  Angelo  Clareno  accuse  their 
fellow-friars  of  great  duplicity  in  hiding  the  misdeeds  of  the 
Order  (Archiv.  ii,  300,  301,  353  :  cf.  Piers  Plowman's  Creed 
Ed.  Skeat.  1.  625  flf). 

15.  Qusest.  circ.  Reg.  Q.  21. 

16.  Bonav.  Qusest.  circ.  Reg.  xix.  :  cf.  his  first  circular  letter  "modis 

omnibus  volo  quod  restringatis  receptionem  multitudinis " : 
Bacon,  ed.  Brewer,  R.S.,  p.  426.  Martene  De  Antiquis  Ritibus, 
lib.  v.,  c.  v.,  KTidi  passim.     Ubertino  in  Archiv.  iv.,  77,  80,  187. 

17.  See   Bonaventura's   first   Circular   Letter,    and    his    words    in 

Archiv.  iii.,  517,  with  Ehrle's  comment,  ib.  p.  591. 


Appendix  A.  411 

18.  Bonav.  Qusest.  xix.  circa  Regulam.     "  Already  the  early  brethren 

are  becoming  a  laughing-stock,  instead  of  being  taken  as 
examples."  Dav.  Aug.  p.  110,  "now  of  spiritual  delights  and 
the  taste  of  inward  sweetness,  which  surpass  beyond  compare  ail 
delights  of  this  world  as  honey  surpasses  dung, — of  this  there  is 
now  scarce  any  mention  or  effectual  desire  or  zeal,  even  among 
those  who  seem  to  themselves  to  have  climbed  high  in  Religion  : 
nay  rather,  it  (sic)  is  despised,  derided,  and  held  as  a  folly  and 
abomination  in  these  days ;  and  men  of  this  kind  suffer  perse- 
cution from  other  Religious  and  are  thought  possessed  of  demons, 
and  are  called  heretics."  cf.  ibid.  285,  331.  The  locus  dassictis 
for  the  persecution  of  the  Spirituals  is  of  course  Angelo  Clareno's 
Seven  Tribulations,  published  almost  entirely  in  Archiv.,  vols,  i — 
iv  :  but,  a  century  later,  we  find  St.  Catharine  of  Siena  speaking 
if  possible  still  more  strongly  :  the  Order  to  which  she  specially 
refers  is  probably  the  Dominican.  "  They  [the  evil  Religious] 
fall  like  famished  wolves  on  the  lambs  who  would  fain  keep  their 
Rule,  scoffing  at  them  and  mocking  them.  And  these  wretches 
with  their  persecution,  their  misdoings  and  their  scoffs,  which 
they  inflict  on  good  Religious  and  keepers  of  the  Rule,  think  to 
cover  their  own  defects  :  but  they  discover  them  far  more." 
(Dialogo.  Cap.  124).  In  the  same  chapter  and  again  more 
emphatically  in  c.  162,  she  speaks  of  the  multitude  of  evil 
Religious  compared  with  the  really  good.  The  contemporary 
Gower  bears  the  same  testimony  in  his  Mirour  de  I'Omme  and 
Vox  Clamantis. 

19.  Berthold  of  Ratisbon  constantly  harps  on  the  soul-slaying  abuses 

of  Indulgences  (Fred.  i.  132,  148,  154,  208,  394:  ii.  12,  219). 
For  the  later  Friars  see  Wycliffe's  works  passim,  and  Bishop 
Gardiner  as  quoted  in  Abbot  Gasquet's  Eve  of  the  Reformation, 
p.  438.  It  is  strange,  however,  that  Abbot  Gasquet  can  have 
made  such  a  statement  as  that  on  which  Bishop  Hedley  relies  in 
his  article  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  (Jan.,  1901,  p.  170),  con- 
sidering the  appalling  revelations  of  the  Oxford  Chancellor 
Gascoigne  as  to  Indulgence  abuses  in  1450.  (Lib.  Ver.,  pp. 
118,  119,  123,  and  passim).  Men  go  about,  says  Gascoigne, 
selling  indulgences  "sometimes  for  twopence,  sometimes  for  a 
good  drink  of  wine  or  beer,  sometimes  for  the  stake  of  a  game 
of  ball,  sometimes  for  a  prostitute's  hire,  sometimes  for  fleshly 
love,"  with  the  result  that  "  sinners  say  nowadays  •  I  care  not 
what  and  how  many  sins  I  commit  before  God,  for  I  can  get 
with  the  greatest  ease  and  expedition  a  plenary  remission  of  all 
guilt  and  penalty  by  absolution  and  the  indulgence  granted  me 
by  the  Pope,  which  I  have  bought  for  four  pence,  or  six  pence, 
or  a  game  of  ball."  Bishop  Hedley's  whole  article  is  vitiated 
by  similar  historical  misstatements,  none  the  less  serious  because 


412  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

they  are  evidently  made  in  pure  ignorance.  He  knows  nothing 
even  of  Berthold's  words,  though  they  are  quoted  in  so  orthodox 
a  Romanist  history  as  that  of  Prof.  Michael  (Gesch.  d.  d. 
Volkes  im  xiii,  Jhtd.  Vol.  ii,  p.  166). 


Chapter  XXVII. 

1.  P.  Plowman,  B.  xxi,  241  ff. 

2.  Benvenuto's  commentary  on  Dante's  mention  of  the  great  miniature- 

painter  Oderisi  shows  clearly  enough  how  far  the  thirteenth 
century  artist  was  from  commanding  such  social  consideration  as 
their  most  successful  brethren  command  in  our  own  day  (III, 
310 :  on  Purg.  XI).  *'  Note  here  that  some  men  wonder 
ignorantly  here,  and  say  'wherefore  hath  Dante  here  named 
humble  and  obscure  craftsmen'  (homines ignoti  nominis  et  bassae 
artis),  when  he  might  more  worthily  have  named  most  excellent 
men  who  thirsted  sore  for  glory  and  wrought  fair  and  noble 
works.  But  certainly  the  poet  did  thus  with  great  art  and  with 
excellent  justice  ;  for  thus  he  gives  us  tacitly  to  understand  that 
the  great  craving  for  glory  seizes  on  all  men  with  so  little 
distinction,  that  even  lowly  craftsmen  (parvi  artifices)  are 
anxious  to  gain  it,  even  as  we  see  that  painters  put  their  names 
on  their  works,  as  Valerius  writeth  of  a  famous  painting."  The 
tone  of  this  comment  is  all  the  more  remarkable  because  of  the 
allusions  to  Grotto  and  Cimabue  in  the  context.  It  is  very  doubt- 
ful whether  the  great  artists  of  the  past  received  more  considera- 
tion in  oflScial  quarters  than  now-a-days :  certainly  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  a  modern  author  of  Benvenuto's  calibre  writing 
of  great  artists  as  he  does. 

3.  **  He  was  a  person  of  scant  religion,  and  never  could  get  himself  to 

believe  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  wherefore  with  words 
suited  to  his  own  flinty  brain  he  most  obstinately  rejected  all 
good  doctrine.  He  had  all  his  hope  in  the  gifts  of  fortune ;  and 
for  money  he  would  have  undertaken  to  do  any  ill  deed'" 
(Vasari.     Life  of  Pietro  Perugino  ad.  Jin.) 

4.  About  1230  A.D.,  a  friar  of  Gloucester  was  very  severely  punished 

by  the  Visitor  for  having  painted  a  pulpit ;  and  Eccleston  was 
convinced  that  many  others  bitterly  expiated  in  purgatory  their 
share  in  building  those  beautiful  churches  which  we  admire. 
Wadding  quotes  an  early  visionary  who  went  further  :  according 
to  him,  an  otherwise  excellent  friar  was  sent  to  hell  for  this  sole 
cause  (Eccleston  U.S.  col.  v:  cf.  Actus  s.  Francisci  cap,  Ixx, 
Wadding  an.  1242  §  17.) 


Appendix  A.  413 

5,  Those  who  (like  Dr.  Gasquet)  argue  so  confidently  from  art  to 
morals,  should  consider  the  following  facts  quoted  by  Mr.  A.  F. 
Leach  from  the  Visitations  of  the  Wells  Cathedral  clergy.  "  In 
1511  .  .  .  a  Vicar  Choral  convicted  of  several  adulteries  was 
ordered  [as  a  punishment]  '  to  paint  one  king  before  the  choir 
door  which  is  not  yet  painted  ;  and,  if  he  escaped  prosecution  in 
the  king's  court,  to  paint  another  king  not  yet  painted.'  This 
experiment  seems  to  have  been  so  successful  that,  another  chantry 
priest  having  been  ordered  *  candle  penance '  for  a  similar  ofifence, 
it  is  commuted  to  *  painting  the  image  of  St.  Michael  and  its 
canopy.'"  (Visitations  of  Southwell.  In  trod.  p.  87).  Brown- 
ing's Lippo  Lippi  exactly  typifies  one  phase  of  medieval  life. 

For  the  custom  of  devoting  the  fines  of  unchaste  priests  to 
cathedral  fabrics  see  p.  42  of  C.  A.  Swainson's,  '*  A  Cathedral 
of  the  old  Foundation"  (i.e.,  Chichester,  a.d.  1287):  two 
Norwich  visitations  of  1498  and  1499  (Reg.  Morton  in  Lambeth 
Library,  ff  77a,  77b,  and  M.  S.  Tanner,  100  in  Bodleian,  ff  56a, 
65a.) :  also  the  constitutions  of  Chichester  in  Wilkins,  i.  692  : 
and  Ripon  Chapter  Acts  (Surtees  Soc.)  pp.  292,  294.  Similarly 
in  the  diocese  of  Wells,  the  Archdeacon  of  Bath,  for  incontinence 
and  other  offences  (including  the  unpardonable  guilt  of 
contumacy),  was  not  deprived,  but  fined  100  marks  for  the  fabric 
fund  (Reg.  R.  de  Salopia,  Somerset  Record  Soc,  p.  429,  a.d. 
1340).  Gascoigne  (pp.  121,  123)  speaks  very  strongly  of  the 
scandalous  extortions  for  the  York  Cathedral  fabric,  and  the 
immoralities  by  which  the  indulgence-mongers  sometimes  raised 
contributions. 


Appendix  B. 

FULL  TITLES  OF  THE  BOOKS 
(Which  are  quoted  only  by  their  short  titles  in  the  notes.) 


AA.  SS. — Acta  Sanctorum  :  (references  here  are  to  the  London  Library 
copy.) 

Afo.—l  Aff6  :  Storia  di  Parma.     (Parma,  1792.) 

Ana.  Fra. — Analecta  Franciscana.     (Quaracchi,  1885,  etc.) 

Arcliiv. — Archiv  fiir  Litt-und  Kirchengeschichte  d.  Mittelalters.  Ed. 
Denifle  und  Ehrle. 

Arte. — Arte,  Scienza,  e  Fede  ai  Giorni  di  Dante.     (Milan,  1901.) 

Ben.  Im.  Benvenutus  de  Imola.  Comentum  super  Dantis  Comce- 
diam.     (Florence,  1887.) 

Bern.  Bess. — Bernard  of  Besse  in  "  Selecta  pro  instruendis  fratribus 
scripta  S.  Bonaventurae."     (Quaracchi,  1898.) 

Bern.  Sen. — B.  Bernardini  Senensis  Opera.     Ed.  de  la  Haye  (1636). 

Bern.  Sen.  Pred. — Le  Prediche  Volgari  di  S.  Bernardino.  (Siena, 
1880.) 

Bert.  Rat.  Pred. — Berthold.  v  Eegensburg.  Predigten,  ed.  Pfeiffer. 
(Vienna,  1862.) 

Bert.  Putt.  Serm. — Bertholdi  a  Eatisbona  Sermones  ad  Keligiosos. 
Ed.  Hoetzl.     (Munich,  1882.) 

Biagi. — Guido  Biagi.  The  Private  Life  of  the  Eenaissance  Floren- 
tines.    (Blackwood's  Maga.,  vol.  cliii,  pp.  328  ff.) 

Browne  Fasc. — Fasciculus  rerum  expetendarum  et  fugiendarum.  Ed. 
Browne.     (London,  1690.) 

Busch. — Joh.  Bugch.  Chron.  Windeshemense  et  Liber  de  Eeforma- 
tione.     Ed.  Grube.     (Halle,  1887.) 

CcBs.  Heist. — Csesarii  Heisterbachensis  Dialogus  Miraculorum.  (Ed. 
Strange.     Cologne,  1851.) 

Dav.  Aug. — David  de  Augusta.  De  exterioris  et  interioris  hominis 
compositione.     (Quaracchi,  1899.) 

Du  Meril. — Poesies  Populaires  Latines  du  M-A.  par.  Ed^lestand  du 
Meril.     (Paris,  1847.) 

Eccleston. — Thomas  of  Eccleston's  Chronicle  in  Monumenta  Franciscana 
E.S.,  1858. 


Appendix  B.  415 

Eiibel.  Prov. — Provinciale  0.  F.  M.  vetustissimum.  Ed.  C.  Eubel. 
(Quaracchi,  1892.) 

Frati.— La.  Vita  Privata  di  Bologna,  da  L.  Frati.     (Bologna,  1900.) 

Gascoigne. — Loci  e  Libro  Veritatum.     Ed.  Rogers.     (Oxford,  1881.) 

Gautier. — L^on  Gautier.     La  Chevalerie  (nouvelle  Mition,  1883). 

Gerson. — Joannis  Gersonii  Opera.     (Paris,  1606.) 

Gidb.  Nov. — Guiberti  de  Novigento  Opera.  (Migne  Pat.  Lat.,  vol. 
156.) 

La  Tour.— The  Book  of  the  Knight  of  La  Tour  Landry.  E.E.T.S., 
1868. 

Lib.  Guil.  Major. — Melanges  Historiques.  Choix  de  Documents. 
Tom.  2,  Paris,  1877. — Liber  Guillelmi  Majoris  Episcopi  Andegavensis. 

Matt.  Pflm.— Chronicle  of  M.  P.     Ed.  Wat.     (London,  1684.) 

Michael. — E.  Michael,  S.  J.  Salimbene  und  Seine  Chronik.  (Inns- 
bruck, 1889.) 

Mon.  Franc. — Monumenta  Franciscana.     Ed.  Brewer,  E.S.,  1858. 

Mailer  Anfdnge. — Karl  Miiller.  Die  Anfange  des  Minoritenordens 
u.  8.W.     (Freiburg  i/B,  1885.) 

Murat. — Muratori  Scriptores  Eerum  Italicarum. 

Od.  Rig. — Eegestrum  Visitationum  Odonis  Eigaldi.  Ed.  Bonnin. 
(Eouen,  1852.) 

Rashdall. — H.  Eashdall.  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle 
Ages.     (Oxford,  1895.) 

Reg.  Grand. — Episcopal  Eegisters  of  Exeter.  Ed.  Hingeston-Eandolph. 
Grandisson  (1327-1369). 

Reg.  Stapeldon. — Stapeldon's  Eegister  in  same  series  (1307-1326). 

R.  5.-^Chronicles  and  Memorials  published  under  the  direction  of  the 
Master  of  the  EoUs. 

Sacchetti  Nov. — Le  Novelle  di  Sacchetti.     (Milan.  Sonzogno,  1876.) 

Saccheiti.  Serm. — I  sermoni,  le  lettere,  ed  altri  scritti  di  Sacchetti. 
Ed.  Gigli  (Florence,  1857). 

Thos.  Cant. — Thomse  Cantimpratani  Bonum  Universale  de  Apibus. 
(Douai,  1597.) 

Vine.  Bell. — Vincentii  Bellovacensis  Speculum  Quadruplex.  (Douai, 
1624.) 

Vit.  Exemp. — The  Exempla  of  Jacques  de  Vitry.  Ed.  Crane.  (Folk- 
Lore  Society,  1890.) 

Vit.  Fra<.— Vitae  Fratrum  0.  P.     Ed.  Eeichert.     (Louvain,  1896.) 

Wad. — Wadding.  Annales  Minorum.  (Eeferences  are  to  the  London 
Library  copy.) 

Wilkim. — Wilkins.     Concilia  Magnse  Britannise  et  Hibernise. 


Appendix  C. 


Quae  hie  sequuntnr  quamvis  non  omnibus  legenda  sint,  illis  tamen  haudquaquain 
praetereunda,  qui  scire  studeant  qualis  illis  temporibus  hominum  vita  vere  fuerit. 
Hoc  unum  lector  benevolus  in  mente  retineat,  omnia  psene  quae  hie  ponuntur  a 
fratre  Salimbene  pro  amicis  suis,  et  prsecipue,  ut  videtur,  pro  fratris  sui  filia, 
moniali  Ordinis  Sanctae  Clarae,  scripta  esse.  Paueissima  ipse  ex  aliis  fontibv.s 
adjeci,  quae  ad  intellentum  rerum  in  hoc  libro  scriptarum  utilia  videbantur. 
humeri  ad  paginas  meas  referunt,  ubi  tales  materias  jam  brevissime  perstriuxi, 
sicco  pede  transiens.  Signum  "Jtfon.  Germ."  cum  numero  iudicat  paginam 
editionis  novae  quam  etiam  nunc  curat  vir  doctissimus  0.  Holder-Egger :  ^' Ed. 
Pann."  significat  paginam  editionis  Parmensis  anni  MDCCCLVII,  ubi  verba  in 
hac  Appendiee  relata  aut  stant  aub  stare  debent. 

11.  Vix  credibile  est,  quantum  inter  homines  niedii  aevi,  prsesertim 
inter  scholares  et  clericos,  vitium  pasderastiaa  vulgatum  fuerit. 
Testimouia  hujus  rei  vix  enumeranda  sunt ;  perpauca  tamen  e  tot 
indiciis  hie  pono.  Scribit  Benvenutus  de  Iniola  (vol.  i,  pp.  522 
sq.)  clericos  et  litteratos  sui  temporis  maximam  copiam  peccandi 
contra  naturum  habere ;  adjicit  etiani  se  primo  molestissime  tulise 
Dantem  tales  viros  hujus  sceleris  tarn  aperte  arguisse  (Inf.  xv, 
106  sq.) ;  postea  tamen,  cum  Bononite  in  scholis  legeret,  "ex- 
perientia  teste  "  didicisse  "  quod  hie  sapientissimiis  poeta  optime 
fecit."  Testatur  Cancellarius  Parisiensis  Joannes  Gerson,  theo- 
logus  sevi  sui  prsestantissimu?,  in  scholis  prjiesertim  atque  inter 
monachos  aut  mouiales  hujusmodi  vitium  vigcre :  "  exercent 
parentes  utrique  cum  utraque  progenie  et  affines  affinibus  in 
adolescentia,  senesque  cum  junioribus  tam  in  religione  quam  in 
scholis  et  alibi.  Dubitaverim  prosus  si  non  deteriores  mores 
trahunt  aliquando  pueri  et  puellae  hac  occasione  in  parentuiii 
domiciliis  et  religionum  ac  scholarum  contuberniis  quam  facturi 
erant  in  prostibulis  lenonum  vel  meretricum"  (Oj}p.  ed.  Paris,  ii, 
629  :  cf.  380,  G37,  680,  762).  Horrenda  an  vix  alias  credibilia 
monet  Beatus  Bernardinus  Senensis  inter  prsedicationera  publicani 
(Pred.  Pop.,  Siena,  1884,  pred. -xx,  vol.  ii,  p.  142:  cf.  pp.  98, 
108,  140,  150,  necnon  vol.  iii,  p.  136  et  Opera  Latina,  vol.  iii, 
pp.  188  sq.)  Arguit  Bernardinus  "infinitatem  hujus  peccati  .  .  . 
nam  Christiani  erant  per  Christum  a  pagania  purificati  ab  i.<to 
vitio,  sed  reversi  in  eodem  (sic.)  sunt  pejores  quam  prius.  His 
tamen  etiam  pejora  in  Universitate  Romana  seculo  sedecimo 
publice  ac  quasi  solemniter  agebantur,  testantibus  coram  magis- 
tratu  duobus  professoribus  :  (vide  scriptum  A.  Bertolotti  apud 


Appendix  C.  417 

CKomaU  Storico  della  Lett.  It.,  vol.  ii,  pp.  144  sq.)  Notandum 
est,  inter  folia  ilia  quae  a  lectore  quodam  irato  ex  Salimbenis 
Chronica  excissa  sunt,  fuisse  quae  (ut  index  antiquus  testatur),  de 
peccatis  urbis  Bononiae  tractabant  {Mon.  Germ.,  p.  371  :  ubi  in 
nota  sic  legitur :  "  Hsec  de  excise  f.  363,  leguntur :  De  causa 
destructionis  Bon[onie]  et  de  usuris  non  accipiendis  et  munera  e 
de  aliis  peccatis  ac.  363,  364  ").  Nota  item,  Salimbenem  ejusdem 
vitii  pseudapostolos  Segalelli  accusare  (vide  p.  304  hujus  libri : 
Mon.  Germ.,  pp.  269  sq.) 

18.  Vita  Prima  S.  Francisci  auctore  Thoma  de  Celano  c.  i.  (Ed. 
Eosedale,  p.  6.) 

"  Quoniam  hec  pessima  consuetudo  una  [sic  :  fortasse  legendum 
in]  doctrina  puerorum  apud  eos,  qui  christiano  censentur  nomine, 
sic  undique  inolevit ;  et  perniciosa  doctrina  hec  velut  lege  publica 
ita  ubique  firmata  est  et  prescripta,  ut  ab  ipsis  cunabulis  remisse 
nimis  et  dissolute  filios  suos  studeant  educare.  Primo  namque 
cum  fari  vel  balbutire  incipiunt,  turpia  quedam  et  execrabilia 
valde  signis  et  vocibus  edocentur  pueruli  nondum  [lege,  vixdum] 
nati :  et,  cum  tempus  ablactationis  advenerit,  quedam  luxu  et 
lascivia  plena  non  solum  fari  sed  et  operari  coguntur.  Non  audet 
aliquis  eorum,  etatis  timore  coactus,  honeste  se  gerere,  quoniam 
ex  hoc  duris  subjacet  disciplinis.  Ideo  bene  ait  seculaiis  poeta : 
Quia  inter  exercitationes  parentum  crevimis,  ideo  a  pueritia  nos 

omnia  mala  sequuntur sed  et  cum  paulo  plusculum  etate 

profecerint,  se  ipsis  impellentibus,  semper  ad  deteriora  opera  dila- 
buntur  ....  Cum  vero  adolescentie  portas  coeperint  introire, 
quales  eos  fieri  arbitrarisl  Tunc  profecto  omni  dissolutionis 
genere  fluitantes,  eo  quod  liceat  eis  explere  omne  quod  libet,  omni 
studio  se  tradunt  fiagitiis  deservire.  Sic  enim  voluntaria  servitute 
servi  eflfecti  peccati, arma  iniquitati  exponunt  omnia  membra  sua; 
et  nichil  in  se  christiane  religionis  in  vita  sen  in  moribus  prefer- 
entes  solo  christianitatis  nomine  se  tuentur.  Simulant  miseri 
plerumque  se  nequiora  fecisse  quam  fecerint,  ne  videantur  ab- 
jectiores,  quo  innocentiores  existant.  Hec  sunt  misera  rudimenta 
in  quibus  homo  iste  [sc.  S.  Franciscus],  quem  sanctum  hodie 
veneramur,  quoniam  vere  sanctus  est,  a  pueritia  versabatur."  Cf. 
Gerson,  ii,  310. 

27.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  79.  "  Nam  cum  quadam  die  [fratur  Deustesalvet] 
ad  domum  Predicatorum  ivisset,  et  illi  invitassent  eum  ad  pran- 
dium,  dixit  quod  nullo  modi  ibi  staret,  nisi  ei  darent  de  tunica 
fratris  Johannis,  qui  in  domo  illo  erat,  ut  pro  reliquiis  reservaret. 
Promiserunt  et  magnam  petiam  de  tunica  sibi  dederunt,  cum  qua 
post  prandium  purgato  ventre  posteriora  terxit,  et  petiam  dejecit 
in  stercora.  Postmodum  accipiens  perticam  stercora  revolvebat, 
clamens  et  diceus  :  '  Heu,  heu  !  succurrite,  fratres,  quia  reliquiae 

Bt 


41 8  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

sancti  require,  quas  perdidi  in  latrina ! '  Cumque  vultus  suos 
inclinassent  ad  orificia  camerarum,  cum  pertica  stercora  revolvebat 
valenter,  ut  stercorum  fetorem  sentirent.  Infecti  itaque  tali 
odorainento  erubuerunt  cognoscentes  se  a  tali  trufatore  delusos. 

Cum  autem   quadam  die  tempore  yemali  per  civitatem 

Florentie  ambularet,  contigit  ut  ex  lapsu  glatiei  totaliter  caderet. 
Videntes  hoc  Florentini,  qui  trufatores  maximi  sunt,  ridere 
ceperunt.  Quorum  unus  quesivit  a  fratre  qui  ceciderat,  utrum 
plus  vellet  habere  sub  se.  Cui  frater  respoudit,  quod  sic, 
scilicet  interrogantis  uxorem.  Audientes  hoc  Florentini  non 
habuerunt  malum  exemplum,  sed  commendaverunt  fratrem 
dicentes  :  *  Benedicatur  ipse,  quia  de  nostris  est.' " 

46.  Mon.  Oerm.,  p.  40.  "  Dixit  igitur  michi  pater  mens  :  '  Fili  dilecte, 
non  credas  istis  pissiutunicis ' — id  est,  qui  in  tunicis  mingunt — 
*  qui  te  deceperunt,  sed  veni  mecum,  et  omnia  mea  tibi  dabo.' " 

69.  Bern.  Bess.  Speculum  Disciplinse  pars,  i,  cap.  xv,  3  (ed.  Quaracchi, 
p.  327).  "Indignum  quoque  in  divino  officio  venandis  vermi- 
culis  et  mactandis  intendere,  quibus  palam  in  oiatorio  digitos  aut 
ligna  foedare  frons  inverecunda  non  metuit."  Ibid.  cap.  xxiv,  2 
(p.  364).  "Nares  non  in  aliorum  aspectu,  aed  ad  partem  cum 
duorum  tantum  aut  trium  appositione  digitorum  emungant ; 
seorsum  etiam  spuendum  est,  maxime  in  conventu  fratrum,  ne 
loca  publica,  sive  in  choro  sive  alibi,  sputo  foedentur,  et  astantium 
oculi  offendantur.  Pudet  quidem  in  ipso  chori  deambulatorio  ad 
pedes  suos  palam  fratribus  spuere  nee  pudere. 

204.  2Ion.  Germ,  p.  608.  "  Dorainus  Jacobus  de  Henzola  mutinensis 
fuit  Potestas,  et  ibi  infirmatus  et  mortuus  et  sepultus  ad 
majorem  ecclesiam,  et  in  tumulo  in  equo,  ad  modum  militis, 
honorifice  fuit  depictus;  et,  quia  tempore  suae  potestarise  facta 
fuerunt  ilia  homicidia  et  maleficia,  quae  fuerunt  initia  futurae 
guerrse  in  Mutina,  .  .  .  provocati  Mutinenses,  irati,  turbati,  et 
indignati,  et  videntes  mala  quae  ille  occasione  venerant  super  eos, 
eruerunt  oculos  Potestatis  depicti  ct  cacaverunt  super  tumulum 
ejus."  Confer  ea  quae  de  Alberico  de  Komano  narrat  Salimbene 
(Mon.  Qe)in.,  p.  367).  "ITam  quadam  die,  quia  perdiderat 
accipitrem  suum,  cum  esset  sub  divo,  extraxit  sibi  bracas  et  culum 
ostendit  Deo  in  signum  opprobrii  et  convitii  atque  derisionis, 
credens  se  ex  hoc  de  Deo  ulcisci.  Cum  autem  fuit  domi,  ivit  et 
cacavit  super  altare  in  eo  loco  proprie,  ubi  cousecratur  Dominicum 
corpus." 

218.  Ed.  Parm.,  393.  "  Aliquos  vero  ligabant  solum  modo  per  poUicem 
manus  dextrae  sive  sinistrae  et  totaliter  totum  corpus  hominis 
suspendebant  a  terra;   et  aliquos  etiam,  ligando  testiculos,  sus- 


Appendix  C.  419 

peudebant,  etc.,  etc."  Cf.  Guib.  Novig.,  p.  933,  ubi  de  Thoma 
de  Codiaco  (Coucy)  sic  legitur :  "  cum  enim  captos  ad  redemp- 
tionem  quoslibet  cogeret,  hos  testiculis  appendebat  propria 
aliquoties  manu,  quibus  saepe  corporea  mole  abruptis,  eruptio 
pariter  vitalium  non  tardabat.  Alteri  suspense  per  poUices  aut 
per  ipsa  pudenda,  saxo  etiam  superposito,  humeros  comprimebat, 
et  ipse  subter  obambulans,  cum  quod  habere  non  poterat  ab  eis 
extorquere  non  posset,  fustibus  super  eorum  corpora  tandiu  bac- 
chabatur,  donee  ei  placentia  sponderent,  aut  in  poenis  morerentur. 

248.  Mon.  Oenn.,  367.  "  Omnes  maiores  et  meliores  et  potentiores  et 
ditiores  et  nobiliores  delevit  [Icilinus]  de  marchia  Trivisina,  et 
mulieres  castrabat  et  cum  filiis  et  filiabus  in  carceribus  includebat, 
et  ibi  fame  et  miseria  peribaut." 

248.  Mon.  Germ.,  364.  Albericus  .  .  .  XXV  de  maioribus  Trivisii  fecit 
una  die  suspendi  .  .  .  et  XXX  nobiles  mulieres,  matres  istorum, 
uxores,  filias,  et  sorores,  fecit  venire  ut  viderent  suspendendos,  et 
ipsi  eas ;  quibus  voluit  nasum  precidere,  sed  benefitio  cuiusdam 
quern  appellabat  filium  suum  spurium,  sed  non  erat,  fuit  dimissum. 
Verumtamen  usque  ad  mammillas  fuerunt  vestes  earum  precise, 
ita  quod  totum  corpus  cuiuslibet  earum  nudum  erat,  et  viderunt 
eas  qui  suspendendi  erant.*  Et  ita  iuxta  terram  fuerunt  suspensi, 
quod  iste  mulieres  cogebantur  per  tibias  eorum  transire,  et  cum 
tibiis  et  pedibus  vultum  earum  percutiebant,  dum  moriebantur  in 
amaritudine  animarum  suarum.  .  .  .  Post  bee  fecit  eas  poni  ultra 
fluvium  qifr  dicitur  Silva  vel  Siler,  ut  irent  quo  vellent.  Et 
fecerunt  sibi  coopertoria  de  modico  indumento  quod  habebant 
circa  mammillas,  et  opsruerunt  sibi  membra  genitalia,  id  est 
pudenda,  et  ambulaverunt  tota  die  ilia,  etc.,  etc."  Postridie, 
auxilio  piscatoris  cujusdam,  Venetiaa  in  ecclesiam  sancti  Marci 
vectae  sunt.  "  Audiens  hec  Cardinalis  [Octavianus,  Legatus  in 
Lombardia],  sine  mora  venit  ad  eas  et  dedit  eis  comedere.  Et 
misit  per  totam  civitatem  dicendo,  quod  celeriter  atque  festine  et 
sine  aliqua  mora  omnes  venirent  ad  ipsum  ad  ecclesiam  Sancti 
Marci,  turn  viri  quam  mulieres,  tarn  parvi  quara  magni  .  .  . 
quoniam  talia  diceret  eis  que  nunquam  audiverant,  et  talia 
ostenderet  eis  que  nunquam  viderant.  Quid  plura  ]  Dicto  cicius 
congregata  est  tota  civitas  Venetorum  ad  eum  in  platea  ecclesie 
sancti  Marci,  et  audivorunt  ab  eo  totam  historiam  suprascriptam. 
Quam  cum  recitasset,  fecit  venire  dominas  illas  ita  dehonestatas 
et  nudas  sicut  ille  maledictus  Albricus  dehonestari  fecerat.  Hoc 
ideo  fecit  cardinalis,  ut  magis  provocaret  Venetos  contra  ilium  et 
magis  induceret  ad  miserendum  istis.     Cum  autem  audivissent 

*  "Idem  facinuu  refemnt  Ann.  S.  lustinoB  Patav.  SS.  XIX,  p.  178,"  Editoria 
nota. 


420  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Yeneti  omnem  historium  supradictam  et  dominas  ita  nudatas  con- 
spexissent,  elevata  voce  clamaverunt :  etc.,  etc." 

Quani  usitatae  fuerint  tales  turpi tudinea,  ex  duobus  exemplis 
coUigi  potest.  Narrat  De  Antiquis  Legibus  Liber  (C.  S.,  1846, 
p.  75)  mortam  Simonis  de  Monteforti  a.d.  1266  j  ubi  sequuntur 
hsec  verba :  "  Capud  vero  dicti  comitis  Leicestrie,  ut  dicitur, 
abcisum  fuit  a  corpore,  et  testiculi  sui  abcisi  fuerunt  et  appensi 
ex  utraque  parte  nasi  sui,  et  ita  missum  fuit  capud  suum  uxori 
Domini  Rogeri  de  Mortuo  Mari  apud  caatrum  de  Wiggemora: 
Pedes  vero  et  manus  sue  abcisi  fuerunt,  et  missi  per  diversa  loca 
inimicis  suis  ad  magnum  dedecus  ipsius  defuncti ;  truncus  autem 
corporis  sui  tantummodo  datus  est  sepulture  in  ecclesia  de  Eves- 
ham." Cum  his  confer  quae  citat  A.  Scliulz  de  sacerdote  in 
civitate  Basileensi  (a.d.  1297)  "  cujus  testiculi,  ob  raptum  ab  eo 
perpetratum,  abscissi  et  in  platea  publica  suspensi  sunt." .  (Hofis- 
ches  Leben.  i,  453  :  cf.  Ben.  Im.  i,  416.) 

251.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  168.  "Item  dictum  fuit  de  [Opizone]  quod  filias 
et  uxores  tarn  nobilium  quam  ignobilium  de  Feraria  constuprabat. 
Item  diffamatus  fuit  quod  proprias  sorores  cognoverit  necnon  et 
et  sororem  uxoris." 

253.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  27.  "  Benedicatur  [episcopus  Reginus,  qui 
villicum  suum  dure  puniverat]  ;  sciebat  enim  quod  genus  ser- 
vorum  nisi  cum  supplicio  non  emendatur,  sicut  dixit  quidam 
tyrannus  nutritoribus  sancti  Ypoliti.  '  Benedicatur,'  dicit  Patte- 
clus, '  marchio  Montisferrati,  qui  omnibus  pepercit  nisi  scutiferis  ! ' 
Miserrimi  homines,  qui  postquam  exaltati  et  honorati  sunt  iu 
curiis  magnorum,  efficiuntur  avari,  ut  ostendant  se  bonos  conser- 
vatores  et  custodes  rerum  dominorum  suorum,  et  subtrahunt 
pauperibus  et  viris  iustis  quod  postea  suis  dant  meretricibus ;  et 
interdum  in  aliquibus  partibus  dominorum  uxores  et  filie  servorum 
et  canavariorum  et  gastaldorum  efficiuntur  amasie,  eo  quod  de 
rebus  domus  nichil  nisi  per  manus  talium  habere  possint  omnino. 
Miserrimi  tales  domini,  qui  plus  diligunt  res  temporales  quam 
honorem  proprium  et  corpus  uxorum  et  filiarum.  Hec  omnia 
vidit  oculus  meus  et  probavit  singula." 

Ibid.,  p.  428.  "Usque  adeo  Matulinus  [poeta  quidam]  factus 
est  meus  amicus,  ut  semper  invenirem  eum  palatum  ad  servitia 
impendenda.  Sed  nee  ipse  aliquid  perdidit  inde,  quia  dedi  sibi 
uxorem  filiam  cuiusdam  Ferrariensis  qui  habitabat  Ravenne,  ex 
qua  habuit  magnam  dotem,  adjuvantibus  apud  marchionein 
[Estensem]  domno  Guidone  de  Polenta  et  domno  Adhegerio  de 
Fontana.  Confitebatur  enim  mecum  pater  puelle  in  ilia  infirmitate 
de  qua  mortuus  est,  et  ipso  volente  et  consentiente  feci  hoc  totum. 
Et  dixit  michi  pater  puelle :  *  Frater  Salimbene,  retribuat  vobis 
Dominus,  quia  filia  mea  remansisset  in  taberna  post  mortem  meam 


Appendix  C.  421 

et  forte  facta  fuisset  meretrix,  nisi  vos  fuissetis  qui  maritastis  earn, 
lam  letus  moriar,  ex  quo  constat  michi  quod  filia  mea  bene  est 
maritata.' " 

265.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  398.  "  Cumque  vellet  eos  extra  civitatem  per- 
ducere,  invenerunt  portam  unam  clausam,  similiter  secundam  et 
tertiam.  Sed  per  tertiam,  per  vadum,  quod  erat  subtus  portam, 
viderunt  quendam  magnum  canem  exterius  exeuntem,  et  visum 
est  eis  eodem  modo  posse  eos  exire.  Quod  cum  attemptassent, 
propter  grositiem  legatus  exire  non  poterat.  At  guardianus  posuit 
pedem  super  nates  ipsius  et  calcavit  comprimendo  ad  terram,  et 
ita  exivit." 

286.  Mon,  Germ.,  p.  608.     "Funeri  ejus  interfui  et  sepulturse :  et  scio 

quod  canis  cacavit  super  eum  postquam  sepultus  fuit.  In  majori 
ecclesia  fuit  sepultus  inferius,  "  etc.,  etc. 

287.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  426.     Ego  autem  cognovi  talem  episcopum,  qui  de 

die  in  lecto  suo  denudabat  iuvenculam  mulierem,  ut  earn  diu 
videret  et  tangeret,  et  ponebat  florinos  aureos  super  corpus  illius 
et  coxas,  quos  postea  donabat  eidem,  et  dicebat  quod  non  erat 
plus  mundus.  Et  erat  senex  et  inveteratus  dierum  malorum. 
Et  post  paucos  dies  quadam  nocte  fuit  suffocatus  a  quodam  qui  at- 
tinebat  eidem,  et  totum  tbesaurum  suum,  quem  repperit,  as- 
portavit.  Et  istius  episcopi  interfui  sepulture.  Iste  fuit  Faven- 
tinus  episcopus  .  .  .  Cognovi  etiam  quendam  canonicum  quem 
diabolus  strangulavit,  et  fuit  sepultus  in  sterquilinio  juxta  porcos. 
Hunc  pluries  invenerunt  in  lecto  suo  cum  quadam  nobili  muliere, 
quem  amasiam  retinebat,  fratres  Minores,  quando  summo  diluculo 
ibant  ad  eum  ad  aliquid  inquirendum;  erat  enim  iuris  peritus. 
Iste  fuit  lobannes  de  Bondeno  Ferrariensi,  qui  X  annis  stetit  in 
ordine  fratrum  Predicatorum  et  postea  apostatavit  et  intravit 
ordinem  canonicorum  sancti  Frigdiani  de  Luca  et  cum  eis  fuit 
aliquibus  annis ;  postea  inde  egressus  factus  est  canonicus  Fer- 
rariensis  in  matrice  ecclesia  [sc.  cathedrali].  Cum  autem  habi- 
taret  in  ecclesia  sancti  Alexii  et  ibi  quandam  dominam  nobilem, 
pauperem  Paduanam,  ab  Icilino  expulsam,  retineret  amasiam, 
inventus  fuit  in  lecto  a  diabolo  sine  confessione  et  viatico  suffo- 
catus." 

294.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  403.  Ducitis  enim  mulieres  post  altare  causa  con- 
fitendi  et  ibi  eas  cognoscitis ;  quod  nefas  est  dicere  et  peius 
operari." 

294.  Mon.  Germ.^  p.  409.  ''  Narratio  trufatoria,  sed  vera,  quam  retulit 
papa  Alexander  IV  fratri  Bona  venture,  generali  ministro 
O.F.M 


422  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Frater  Bonaventura  generalis  ruinister  interrogavit  papam 
Alexandrum  IV  utrum  placeret  ei  quod  fratres  Minores  con- 
fessiones  audirent,  et  ipse  dixit  ei :  *  Immo  volo  penitus,  quod  ipsi 
audiant.  Et  dicam  tibi  orribilem  exemplum  et  trufFatoriuiu. 
Quedani  mulier  confitebatur  sacerdoti  suo  in  ecclesia  sua.  Die 
vero  volens  earn  cognoscere  et  canialiter  cum  ea  dormire  cepit  earn 
de  opere  venereo  multum  soUicitare.  Cumque  in  ecclesia  post 
altare  juxta  locum  dominici  corporis  violenter  vellet  earn  oppri- 
mcre,  dixit  ei  domiua  ilia,  *  Nee  locus  requirit  nee  tempus,  ut 
hie  nepharia  et  venerea  opera  perpetrentur.  Alio  loco  et  tempore 
poterunt  congruentius  ista  fieri.'  Hec  autem  dicebat  volens 
evadere  manus  eius.  Sacerdos  vero  sperans  habere  propositum 
acquievit  et  habuit  secum  quedam  familiaria  verba  :  tamen, 
quando  domina  ilia  recedebat  ab  eo  ut  domum  rediret,  dixit  ei 
sacerdos  :  'Domina,  recordemini  illius  uegotii,  quod  scitis,  scilicet 
depostetiarum.'*  Cui  ilia  dixit  :  '  Optime  recordabor.'  Cum 
autem  esset  domi,  quantum  aforis  apparebat,  fecit  pulcherrimam 
turtam,  que  intrinsecus  humano  stercore  plena  erat,  et  pro  exenio 
misit  eam  sacerdoti  cum  enghestaria  optimi  vini  et  albi.  In  hoc 
solum  fuit  ex  parte  mulieris  defectus ;  quia  debebat  urinam  pro- 
priam  sacerdoti  transmittere,  sicut  merdam  propriam  transmisit  in 
turta.  Videns  vero  sacerdos  tarn  pulcherrimam  turtam  cogitavit 
quod  tali  exenio  episcopus  dignus  esset,  et  misit  episcopo.  Cum 
autem  episcopus  cum  suis  discumberet,  precepit  servienti  ut 
divideret  turtam  et  apponeret  discumbentibus.  Quod  cum  seorsum 
faceret,  invenit  merdam  intrinsecus  et  aborruit,  et  reservavit  turtam, 
ut  episcopo  posset  ostendere.  Cum  autem  episcopus  instaret,  ut 
turtam  portaret  minister,  dixit  ei :  '  Satis  habetis  modo ;  alia  vice 
Domino  concedente  habebitis  melius.'  Quid  plura?  Postquam 
episcopus  vidit  talem  turtam,  contra  sacerdotem  indignatus  est 
valde  et  misit  pro  eo  et  dixit  ei :  *  Dicatis  michi,  domne  sacerdos  ; 
Quis  docuit  vos  mittere  tales  turtas  et  maxime  episcopo  vestro  1 
Quid  promerui  aut  in  quo  unquam  ofFendi  vos,  ut  mihi  talem 
injuriam  faceretis  mittendo  turtam  humano  stercore  plenam  1 ' 
Quod  cum  audisset  sacerdos,  obstupuit  et  dixit  episcopo  :  '  Pater, 
in  veritate  ego  non  feci  fieri  illam  turtam,  immo  talis  domina 
misit,  et  ego  credidi  quod  vos  essetis  tali  exenio  dignus,  et  ideo 
misi  vobis  causa  utilitatis  atque  honoris,  credens  turtam  optimam 
esse.'  Quod  cum  audisset  episcopus,  accepit  satisfactionem.  Et 
licenciato  sacerdote  accersivit  dominam  illam,  volens  huius  rei 
cognoscere  veritatem'.  Ipsa  vero  confessa  est  et  non  negavit  quod 
ideo  fecit  hoc  ut  sacerdotem  truffaret  qui  eam,  cum  confiteretur, 
de  opere  venereo  invitabat,  volens  in  ecclesia  et  post  altare  cum 

•  Nota  viri  doctissimi  0.  Holder- Egger :  ' '  hoc  verbum  non  invenitur  in 
Glossario  mediae  et  infimse  Latinitatis.  Formatum  videtur  ad  instar  vocis  in- 
prcesentiarum  a  elepoet." 


Appendix  C.  423 

ea  peccare.  Episcopus  vero  dominam  illam  ex  eo  quod  fecerat 
multipliciter  commendavit  et  sacerdotem  punivit  egregie.  Et  iste 
idem  episcopus,  qui  tale  exenium  habuit,  dixit  pape  Alexandro 
IV  hec  omnia,  referendo  ei  totam  historiam  supradictam,  et  papa 
Alexander  retulit  fratri  Bonaventure  .  .  .  Et  adjecit  papa 
dicendo  •  Quapropter  volo  penitus  quod  fratres  Minores  de  mea 
conscientia  et  licentia  confessiones  audiant  secularium  person- 
arum.'  " 

"  Alia  narratio  dolorosa.  .  .  . 
Cognovi  quemdam  fratrem  Humilem  de  Mediolano,  qui  fuit  custos 
Parmensis  custodie.  Hie  dum  habitaret  in  loco  fratrum  Minorum 
de  Fanano,  tempore  quadi-agesimali  instabat  predication  ibus  et 
confessionibus  audiendis.  Quod  audientes  illi  de  Alpibus,  hom- 
ines et  mulieres,  miserunt  rogando  ut  amore  Dei  pro  salute 
animarum  suarum  dignaretur  ad  eos  accedere,  quia  volebant  cou- 
fiteri  cum  eo.  Et  assumpto  socio  ivit  ad  eos  et  multos  dies 
predicavit  et  confessiones  audivit,  et  multa  bona  fecit  consilia 
salubria  eis  dando.  Quadam  autem  die  venit  ad  eum  quedam 
mulier  volens  confiteri,  et  dixit  ei :  '  Heu  me  !  pater,  mulier  in- 
felix  nimis  ego  sum.'  Cui  f rater  :  *  Die  tu  prius  iniquitates  tuas, 
et  narra,  si  quid  habes,  ut  iustificeris.  De  omnibus  ergo  peccatia 
tuis  culpabilem  te  proclama,  et  sic  absolutione  recepta  postea  eris 
felix.'  Et  dixit :  *  Quadam  die,  dum  irem  sola  per  viam,  invenit 
me  quidam  homo  et  violenter  oppressit  atque  cognovit.  Accessi 
ergo  ad  unum  de  sacerdotibus  volens  confiteri.  Qui  duxit  me 
post  altare,  et  revelato  sibi  peccato  meo  violenter  oppressit  me 
ibidem  atque  cognovit,  non  veritus  locum  sacrum  nee  Jionorem 
Dei  neque  me  plurimum  deplorantem.  Idem  accidit  michi  cum 
eecundo  et  tertio  sacerdote,  quia  quilibet  me  cognovit  et  post 
altare  juxta  dominicum  corpus  mecum  peccavit,  dum  eis  crederem 
confiteri.'  Postquam  igitur  de  omnibus  peccatis  suis  fideliter  est 
confessa,  absolvit  eam  frater  et  dixit  ei :  *  Quid  sibi  vult  cultellua 
iste  quern  habes  in  manu,  et  ad  quid  tempore  isto  et  hora  de- 
Bervit  1 '  Et  dixit  ei :  *  Pater,  in  veritate  cogitabam  me  gladio 
occidere  et  in  desperatione  mea  mori,  si  invitavissetia  me  de 
peccato  sicut  fecerunt  alii  sacerdotes.'  Cui  frater  dixit  :  *  Nee 
invitavi  nee  invitabo,  sed  potius  invito  te  ad  gaudia  paradisi,  que 
dabit  tibi  Dominus,  si  dilexeris  eum  peuitentiam  faciendo.  Vade 
in  pace,  dilecta  filia,  et  amplius  noli  i)eccare.' " 

297.  Mon.  Oerm.,  p.  425.  "Item  inveni  aliquos  .  .  .  totam  domum 
filiis  spuriis  plenam  habentes  et  cum  focaria  sua  tota  nocte  in 
eodem  lecto  jacentes  et  in  crastinum  celebrantes." 

317.  David  de  Augusta.  De  ext  et  Int.  Horn.  Compositi/me.  Lib.  II L, 
cap.  66  (Ed.  Quaracchi,  p.  359).  Cura  de  vieionibus  revelation- 
ibus  et  consolationibus  religiosis  auctor  locutus  sit,  ba^c  verba 


424  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

adjicit :  "  Non  videtur  autem  prsetereundum,  quod  quidam,  de- 
cepti  a  seductoriis  spiritibus,  vel  propriis  falsis  opinionibus,  putant 
sibi  apparere  in  visione  vel  ipsum  Christum  vel  ejus  gloriosissi- 
luam  Genitricem  et  non  solum  amplexibus  et  osculis,  sed  etiam 
alis  indecentioribus  gestibus  et  actibus  ab  eis  demulceri ;  ut,  sicut 
spiritus  ipsorum  interius  ab  ipsis  consolatur  spiritualiter,  ita  et 
caro  exterius  sibi  congruo  obleotationis  sensu  sensibiliter  demul- 
ceatur  et  carnaliter  consoletur.  Quod  non  tantum  esse  falsum 
et  seductorium,  sed  etiam  blasphemia  gravis  esse  liquido 
comprobatur.  Spiritus  sancti  visitatio,  sicut  contra  omnia  vitia 
reprimenda  et  detestanda  infunditur,  ita  etiam  singulariter  contra 
carnales  illecebras  opponitur  ;  et  ubi  spiritus  munditise  suo  jubare 
resplenduerit,  continuo  omnes  pravae  voluptatis  motus  evanescere 
et  velut  tenebras,  superveniente  lumine,  disparere  necesse  est.  De 
his  vero  qui  cum  aliquando  dulcedinem  spiritualem  sentiunt  con- 
tinuo etiam  corporalis  delectationis  pruritu  illecti  foedantur,  nescio 
quid  judicem,  nisi  quod  potius  eligo  illis  carere  tioribus  quos  de 
luti  sordibus  legere  deberem.  Et  sicut  illos  damnare  non  audeo 
qui  inviti  quandoque  in  hujusmodi  spiritualibus  afFectionibus 
carnalis  fluxus  liquore  maculantur,  ita  etiam  excusare  nescio  qui 
tali  fluxui  ex  consensu  condelectantur,  qualiscumque  eorum  in- 
tentio  videatur."  Cf.  Wadding,  1322,  p.  45,  "  Multis  [B. 
Johannem  de  Alvernia  dsemones]  illusionibus  perturbare  tentarunt 
....  foedos  et  obsccenos  ei  tactus  representabant." 

320.  Consuet  S.  Augustini  Cantuarensis,  p.  186.  "  Nee  [fratres]  pro- 
nuncient  aliquas  orationes  vocales  dummodo  secreta  naturae  faciunt, 
ne  verba  Dei  sancta  vilescant." 

Mon.  Germ.,  p.  570.  "  Quidam  religiosus,  dum  in  loco 
privato  ad  requisita  nature  sederet  et  Deum  laudaret,  fuit  repre- 
hensus  a  demone,  quod  locus  ille  non  erat  ydoneus,  sed  inhonestus 
ad  Deum  laudandum.  Cui  respondit  frater  et  dixit :  '  Ita  sum 
divinis  laudibus  assuetus,  quod  a  laude  Dei  cessare  non  possum, 
nam  scriptura  teste  didici  quod  Deus  est  ubique,  ergo  ubique  est 
laudandus  [a  suis],  quod  etiam  apostolus  docuit  I.  ad  Timo.  II : 
Volo  vivos  orare  in  omni  loco,  levantes  puras  mantis  sine  ira  et 
disceptatione.  Igitur  qui  omnem  locum  dicit,  nullum  excludit. 
Quapropter  et  ventrem  meum  purgabo  et  Deum  meum  luadabo. 
Deus  enim  non  nisi  sordes  vitiorum  abhorret.  Sed  tu  miser,  qui 
factus  eras,  ut  Deum  laudares  in  celo,  propter  superbiam  tuam 
celum  perdidisti,  .  .  .  .  et  nunc  vadis  per  sterquilinia  visitando 
latrinas." 

324.  Mon.  Germ.,  p.  257.  "Post  hec,  cum  hospitaretur  [Segalellus] 
apud  aliquam  mulierculam  viduam,  filiam  nubilem  et  speciosam 
habentem,  dicebat  sibi  a  Domino  revelatum  quod  cum  ilia  puella 
debebat  ilia  nocte  nudus  cum  nuda  in  eodem  lecto  dormire,  ut 


Appendix  C.  425 

probaret  si  castitatom  servare  possit  necne.  Consentiebat  mater 
reputans  se  beatam,  et  puella  minime  hoc  negabat."  Vide  etiam 
editoris  notam,  ubi  Segalellus  docuisse  probatur  (teste  Bernardo 
Guidonis)  "quod  jacere  cum  muliere  et  non commisceri  ex  carnal- 
itate  maius  est  quam  resuscitare  mortuum."  Cum  liis  confer 
Sacchetti  Nov.  CI. 

325.  Mon.  Genn.,  p.  268  sq.     "Quod  autem  isti  Apostoli  non  sint  in 

statu  salutis,  pluribus  rationibus  possumus  demonstrare 

Secunda  ratio,  est,  quod  aliqui  eorum  non  servant  castitatem,  ad 
quam  omnes  religiosi  tenentur  .  .  .  Apostoli  autem,  non  Christi 
sed  Ghirardini  Segalelli,  male  servant  castitatem.  Nam,  ut  michi 
dixerunt,  quando  vadunt  per  mundum,  ad  meretrices  declinant  et 
in  domibus  in  quibns  hospitantur,  si  a  lascivis  mulieribus  sollici- 
tantur  ad  peccatum  sive  ad  peccandum,  consentiunt  eis,  et  parva 
est  pugna  [hie  citantur  Ecclus.  xxiii.  24,  xix.  25  ;  Osee  iv.  14, 
15,  etc.,  etc.]  .  .  .  Cogitat  enim  virgo  vel  iuvencula,  quando 
aspicitur  a  spadone,  dicens ;  '  Si  isti  religiosi,  qui  spadones  debent 
esse  iuxta  verbum  Domini,  [Matt.  xix.  12]  non  reputant  peccatum 
lasciviam  carnis,  ego  quare  reputabo  V  Et  ita  dant  ei  maleficiendi 
occasionem,  necnon  et  sibi  ipsis  .  .  .  Item  Apostoli  Ghirardini 
Segalelli  masculi  in  masculos  turpitudinem  operantur,  maxime 
senes  cum  innioribus  qui  ingrediuiitur  ad  eos,  ut  dixerunt  michi. 
Et  ideo  aut  combustione  aut  carcere  essent  digni,"  etc.,  etc. 

328.  Mon.  Gemi.y  p.  264.  "Ipse  vero  pro  hoc  honore  tale  beneficium 
rependit  eisdem,  quod  se  et  omnes  alios  denudavit  usque  adeo, 
quod  etiam  membra  genitalia  sine  bracis  et  aliquo  velamine  nuda 
essent,  et  stabant  appodiati  ad  murum  in  acie  circum  circa,  sed 
non  in  acie  ordinata  nee  honesta  nee  bona." 

331.  Mon.  Qerm.,  p.  620.  "Tres  ribaldoa  recepit  hospitio  ex  eis  qui  se 
dicunt  Apostolos  esse  et  non  sunt,  qui  suaserunt  juveni  ne  uxorem 
cognosceret  nee  cum  ea  in  eodem  lecto  prima  nocte  dormiret  nisi 
quando  dicerent  ei.  Hoc  autem  dicebant,  quia  volebant  juvenem 
praevenire  atque  decipere  et  prius  cum  uxore  dorraire,  sicut  factum 
est,  quia  omnes  tres  ilia  nocte  iverunt  ad  lectum  ejus  unus  post 
alium  facto  modico  intervallo  et  cognoverunt  earn,"  etc.,  etc. 


Appendix  D. 


CLERICAL  CELIBACY. 


There  is  probably  nothing  which  draws  so  sharp  a  line  between  medieval 
and  modern  Society  as  the  status  of  the  clergy — their  immense  numbers, 
their  privileges,  and  the  celibacy  which  made  it  possible  to  treat  them 
so  entirely  as  a  separate  caste.  Since  even  reviewers  who  ought  to  have 
known  better  have  thrown  doubt  on  the  trustworthiness  of  Salimbene's 
evidence  on  this  point,  I  subjoin  here  a  few  documents  supplementary 
to  the  mass  of  evidence  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  six  hundred  closely- 
printed  octavo  pages  of  Dr.  Lea's  "  Sacerdotal  Celibacy  in  the  Christian 
Church."  Many  readers  may  not  care  to  pursue  the  subject ;  but  those 
who  do  can  scarcely  fail  to  realize  how  strictly  Salimbene  has  kept 
within  the  facts. 

A.  Popes.  The  Chronicle  of  Meaxtx  was  written  at  the  Cistercian 
Abbey  of  that  name  in  Yorkshire,  by  Abbot  Thomas  of  Burton,  at  the 
end  of  the  fourteenth  century.  On  p.  89  of  vol.  iii  he  speaks  of  Pope 
Clement  YI,  who  instituted  the  fifty -years'  Jubilee,*  and  against  whom 
the  Cistercians  as  a  body  had  certainly  no  grudge.  The  Chronicler  goes 
on :  "  Now  this  same  Pope  Clement  YI  had  been  lecherous  beyond 
measure  his  whole  life  long.  For  every  night  at  vespertide  he  was 
wont,  after  the  cardinals'  audience,  to  hold  a  public  audience  of  all 
matrons  and  honourable  women  who  wished  to  come.  At  last  some 
men,  speaking  ill  of  him  on  this  account,  began  to  stand  by  the  palace 
doors  and  secretly  to  number  the  women  who  went  in  and  who  came 
out.  And  when  they  had  done  thus  for  many  days,  there  was  ever  one 
lacking  at  their  egress  from  the  number  of  those  who  had  entered  in. 
When  therefore  many  scandals  and  obloquies  arose  on  this  account,  the 
confessor  of  the  Lord  Pope  warned  him  frequently  to  desist  from  such 
conduct,  and  to  live  chastely  and  more  cautiously. t  But  he  ever  made 
the  same  answer,  '  Thus  have  we  been  wont  to  do  when  we  were  young, 

*The  great  Jubilee  Indulgence  was  first  instituted  by  Dante's  Boniface  VIII  in 
1300,  and  was  intended  to  recur  only  once  in  a  hundred  years :  Clement  VI  short- 
ened this  period  by  half,  and  held  the  second  Jubilee  in  1350. 

t  Cf.  Salimbene's  "  Si  non  caste,  tamen  caute." 


Appendix  D.  427 

and  wbat  we  now  do  we  do  by  counsel  of  our  physicians.'  But  when 
the  Pope  was  aware  that  his  brethren  the  Cardinals  and  his  auditors 
and  the  rest  of  the  Court  murmured  and  spake  ill  of  him  on  this  account, 
one  day  he  brought  in  his  bosom  a  little  black  book  wherein  he  had  the 
names  written  of  his  divers  predecessors  in  the  Papal  chair  who  were 
lecherous  and  incontinent ;  and  he  showed  by  the  facts  therein  recorded 
that  these  had  better  ruled  the  Church,  and  done  much  more  good,  than 
the  other  continent  Popes.  Moreover  on  the  same  day  he  raised  to  the 
Cardinalate  one  of  his  sons,  a  boy  of  sixteen,  who  was  afterwards  Pope 
Gregory  XI.  This  Clement  VI  was  succeeded  by  Innocent  VI,  who, 
like  his  predecessor  Clement,  promoted  his  own  sons  and  brethren  and 
nephews  to  Cardinals  and  Bishops,  so  that  scarce  any  were  left  in  the 
Sacred  College  who  were  not  of  his  kin  or  of  the  aforesaid  Clement's." 
The  chronicler's  account  is  no  doubt  exaggerated,  in  parts  at  least :  but 
the  significance  of  the  story  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  was  believed  and  re- 
corded for  posterity  by  a  man  in  Abbot  Burton's  position.  Hardly  less 
significant  is  the  praise  occasionally  bestowed  by  chroniclers  on  popes  of 
exceptional  virtue.  Peter  of  Herentals  thinks  it  worth  while  to  note 
that  Gregory  XI  "  died  a  virgin  in  mind  and  body,  as  some  have 
asserted  "  (Baluze,  Vit.  Pap.  Aven.  i,  483) :  and  similarly  Wadding  is 
proud  to  record  of  Salimbene's  Nicholas  III,  "he  kept  perpetual  vir- 
ginity" (An.  1280,  §  93).  Indeed,  the  scandals  sometimes  forced  even 
the  laity  to  interfere.  In  1340,  the  King  of  France  felt  bound  to  com- 
plain publicly  to  the  Pope,  who  had  legitimized  "three  brothers,  born 
of  a  detestable  union,  that  is  to  say  of  a  Bishop  in  pontifical  dignity, 
degree,  or  order,  and  an  unmarried  woman."  The  word  in  the  original 
being  Pontifex,  it  is  possible  that  the  father  may  have  been  one  of  the 
Pope's  predecessors,  several  of  whom  were  notoriously  unchaste.  (Baluze, 
Vit.  Pap.  Aven.,  p.  600). 

B.  Bishops.  Here  is  Cardinal  Jacques  de  Vitry's  account  of  the 
state  of  things  about  the  time  of  St.  Francis's  birth.  "The  cause  of  all 
these  evils  [monastic  decay,  etc.]  was  the  indiscipline  and  insufiiciency 
and  ignorance  of  the  prelates ;  for  it  was  not  only  while  the  shepherds 
were  asleep,  but  with  their  help,  that  the  enemy  sowed  tares  in  the 
midst  of  the  wheat  ....  In  those  days  scarce  any  could  be  found  who 
sorrowed  for  Christ's  sufferings,  even  though  He  had  an  infinite  number 
of  ministers ;  scarce  any  setting  themselves  up  as  a  wall  for  the  Lord's 
house,  or  eaten  up  with  zeal  for  the  house  of  God,  or  catching  the  little 
foxes  that  destroy  the  Lord's  vines.  For,  crucifying  again  to  themselves 
the  Son  of  God,  and  making  Him  a  mockery,  they  not  only  made  His 
limbs  bare  of  all  substance  by  the  greed  of  their  avarice,  but  also  stripped 
them  of  virtues  by  the  example  of  their  iniquity.  At  night  among 
harlots,  next  morning  at  the  altar ;  caressing  the  daughter  of  Venus  by 
night,  and  on  the  morrow  handling  the  Son  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  they 
trod  under  foot  the  Son  of  God,  and  esteemed  the  blood  of  the  Testament 
unclean."     (Hist.  Occ.  cap.  v). 


428  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

C.  Secidar  {i.e.  non-monastic)  Clergy.  I  have  already  referred  to 
the  fact  that  St.  Bonaventura  condemns  them  in  language  almost  as 
strong  as  Wiclif 's :  here  again  is  what  is  said  of  them  by  St.  Anthony 
of  Padua  when  Salimbene  was  a  boy.  He  speaks  of  clergy  who  "  flay 
the  faithful  by  forced  offerings,  whereon  they  fatten  their  horses,  their 
foals,  and  the  sons  of  their  concubines."  (Opera,  ed.  de  la  Haye,  p.  334). 
How  little  the  Friars  succeeded  in  reforming  this,  may  be  judged  from  the 
words  of  another  celebrated  Franciscan,  Alvarez  Pelayo,  a  Papal  Peni- 
tentiary who  wrote  about  a  generation  after  Salimbene  (1320).  He 
says:  "The  Parish  Priests  ....  live  very  incontinently  (and  would 
that  they  had  never  vowed  continence) !  especially  in  Spain  and  South 
Italy,  in  which  provinces  the  children  of  the  laity  are  scarcely  more 
numerous  than  those  of  the  clergy  ....  They  often  sin  most  abomin- 
ably with  women  of  their  parish  whose  confessions  they  hear."  He  goes 
on  to  describe,  in  language  strikingly  like  Salimbene's,  their  irreverent 
treatment  of  the  consecrated  Host  and  carelessness  of  proper  ceremonies 
at  mass,  their  keeping  of  taverns,  their  greed  for  offerings  and  negligence 
of  their  duties.  (De  Planctu  Ecclesise,  lib.  ii,  artic.  xxvii).  Gower 
speaks  equally  strongly  and  fully  (Mirour  de  I'Omme  20,  593  ff,  and 
"Vox  Clamantis,  bk.  iii,  1.  193  ff.)  But  more  eloquent  still  are  the  frag- 
mentary statistics  of  visitations  which  have  survived.  Here  are  the 
words  in  which  Salimbene's  acquaintance,  Eudes  Rigaud,  Archbishop  of 
Rouen,  sums  up  his  first  ruridecanal  visitation,  (a.d.  1249.  Reg.  p.  17) : 
"  We  caused  to  be  called  together  and  visited,  at  St.  Aubin,  the  priests 
of  the  deanery  of  Longueville  [which  contained  42  parishes  and  3 
chapelries].  We  found  that  Richard,  priest  of  Roumesnil,  has  long 
kept  a  certain  woman  and  had  a  child  by  her,  yet  he  has  been  corrected 
by  the  archdeacon  and  the  ill  report  has  ceased.  Item,  the  priest  of 
Appeville  is  ill-famed  for  drunkenness.  Item,  we  found  that  the  priest 
of  Martigny,  ill-famed  for  incontinence,  is  non-resident  and  absents  him- 
self from  rural  chapters.  Item,  the  priest  of  Ste-Foy  is  ill-famed  of  a 
woman  by  whom  he  has  two  children,  as  several  witnesses  have  deposed ; 
and  he  sells  his  corn  at  the  end  of  the  year.  Item,  the  priest  of  St. 
Germain  of  a  woman  by  whom  he  has  a  child.  Item,  the  priest  of 
Torcy  le  Petit,  of  the  wife  of  Gautier  de  Laistre.  Item,  the  priests  of 
Chapelle  and  Boisrobert  are  ill-famed  for  incontinence.  Item,  the 
priest  of  Mesnilobert  is  ill-famed  of  a  certain  woman.  Item,  the  priest 
of  Appeville,  of  Reialle's  wife.  Item,  the  priests  of  Arques  and  Arceaux 
are  said  to  be  incontinent.  Item,  the  priests  of  St.-Honor6,  of  Appe- 
ville, of  Arques,  of  Fresnoy  and  of  Autels  are  ill-famed  for  drunkenness. 
We  warned  and  rebuked  them,  and  threatened  them  that,  if  they  are 
found  again  ill-famed  of  such  transgressions,  we  would  punish  them 
heavily."  The  rest  mainly  concerns  the  unclerical  attire  of  the  priests 
and  other  smaller  faults. 

Eleven  incontinents  and  four  drunkards  out  of  forty-five  parishes  is 
nearly  double  of  the  general  average  of  these  visitations  :  though,  again, 
there  were  in  other  deaneries  a  good  many  worse  individual  offenders 


Appendix  D,  429 

than  any  on  this  list.  But  even  more  significant  is  the  comparative 
impunity  of  the  offenders,  though  for  generations  church  councils  had 
attempted  to  stamp  out  the  evil  by  enacting  the  severest  punishments 
not  only  on  the  clergy  but  on  their  partners.  Any  one  of  these  Norman 
black  sheep  would  at  once  have  been  deprived  under  the  modern  An- 
glican regime ;  and  it  is  significant  of  the  difference  between  our 
century  and  theirs  to  trace  their  actual  careers.  In  1259,  Eudes  began 
a  second  ruridecanal  visitation  which  even  his  untiring  energy  failed  to 
complete  (p.  329  ff.)  Here,  after  this  ten  years'  interval,  we  find  the 
priest  of  Appeville  still  "a  drunkard  and  a  sot"  :  Roumesnil  is  as  "  ill- 
famed  of  witchcraft,  and  kept  his  daughter  in  his  house  "  :  and  there 
were  two  fresh  incontinents  who  bad  not  appeared  on  the  earlier  list, 
one  of  whom  "had  sometimes  taken  harlot  into  his  house."  The  Arch- 
bishop adds  "all  these  things  we  coirected  and  bade  them  amend: 
moreover  we  warned  the  priests  generally,  all  and  singular,  to  abstain 
from  foul,  mocking,  and  jesting  words,  especially  before  lay  folk  :  and 
that  they  who  had  not  close  cassocks  should  buy  them  by  mid-Lent." 
A  later  notice  in  the  diary  discloses  that  the  priest  of  Boisrobert  is 
*'  ill-famed  of  the  wife  of  a  certain  clerk  named  Bigre,  and  of  a  certain 
Englishwoman  :  we  enjoined  him  to  expel  altogether  the  said  Bigre  and 
his  wife."  (516).  The  priest  of  Mesnilobert,  too,  is  heard  of  again. 
(139,  192,  655).  In  1252  he  was  found  to  be  helping  his  uncle,  prior 
of  the  hospital  at  Neuchatel,  to  consume  in  riotous  living  the  revenues 
of  that  pious  foundation.  In  1254  he  was  cited  to  answer  for  certain 
misdeeds  which  were  recorded  in  another  register,  now  unfortunately 
lost.  The  result  was  that  he  gave  an  undertaking  in  legal  form  to  re- 
sign when  called  upon  ;  whether  he  amended  his  ways,  or  whether  this 
written  promise  was  later  enforced  against  him,  there  is  nothing  to  show. 
The  rector  of  Fresnoy  (669)  was  solemnly  warned  in  1264  for  non- 
residence  and  neglect  of  Church  services,  and  for  beating  a  parishioner's 
wife  with  his  fists.  The  priest  of  Autels  (786  and  402)  proved  unsatis- 
factory, and  it  was  ordered  in  1252  that  he  should  be  pensioned  off  or 
exchange  his  living  :  in  1261  he,  or  his  successor,  resigned.  The  rector 
of  Torcy  le  Petit  (146)  was  in  1252  kicked  in  his  own  churchyard  by 
the  Lord  Jean  de  Peletot,  Kt.,  who  was  forced  to  put  himself  at  the 
Archbishop's  mercy  for  a  fine.  But  the  strangest  career  from  among 
these  misdemeanants  of  1248  was  that  of  the  priest  of  Martigny,  near 
Dieppe.  On  Aug.  5th,  1257,  "Gerard,  priest  of  Martigny,  appeared 
before  us  and  confessed  that  he  had  kept  for  three  years  one  of  his 
parishioners  named  Matilda,  and  had  frequently  (pluriea)  known 
another  girl :  and  we  assigned  him  a  day,  viz.,  Aug.  16th,  to  proceed 
legally  upon  his  confessions  legally  made  in  our  presence :  but  at  length 
he  gave  a  formal  undertaking  that,  if  it  should  befall  him  to  relapse, 
his  living  might  be  taken  as  resigned."  By  canon  law,  of  course,  his 
living  ought  long  ago  to  have  been  vacated.  This  formal  undertaking, 
signed  before  witnesses,  is  duly  filed  in  the  Appendix  of  the  Register. 
On  December  25th,  1261,  the  same  Gerard  was  summoned  to  answer 


430  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

for  having  wounded  a  vassal  of  the  Lord  Thomas  of  Beaumont  with  a 
sword  ;  he  pleaded  self-defence,  and  an  enquiry  was  instituted,  we  are 
not  told  with  what  result.  On  the  20th  July,  1265,  "he  was  cited  by 
his  archdeacon  on  a  fresh  accusation  of  incontiiiency  but  denied  it  on 
oath  ;  and  we  fixed  the  16th  August  to  hear  the  result  of  such  inquisi- 
tion as  the  Archdeacon  should  make  in  the  mean  time."  This  in- 
quisition was  unfavourable :  for  on  August  1 7th  he  was  cited  to  appear 
on  January  8th  next  for  compurgation  by  the  oaths  of  six  other  priests 
(at  his  own  choice  within  certain  obvious  limitations)  who  would  swear 
with  him  that  they  believed  him  innocent.  This  was  the  usual  lenient 
procedure  for  clerical  offenders ;  and  the  great  Oxford  Chancellor 
Gascoigne  describes  in  very  strong  language  the  iniquities  to  winch  it 
gave  rise  at  the  University.  (Mun.  Acad.,  R.S.,  p.  536).  Apparently 
Gerard  found  the  requisite  number  of  obliging  colleagues ;  for  there  is 
no  more  of  him,  nor  any  record  of  a  vacancy  at  Martigny,  in  the 
Register,  which  lasts  to  the  end  of  1269.  (See  pp.  17,  283,  417,  523, 
525,  658). 

It  is  not  at  all  uncommon  to  find  such  a  paragraph  as  "  we  warned 
the  priest  of  St.  Peter's  to  abstain  from  tavern- haunting,  immoderate 
wine-bibbing,  gadding  about  and  unhonest  consorting  with  women  :  for 
he  was  exceedingly  ill-famed  of  such  offences."  Here,  again,  is  another 
case  in  detail,  illustrating  the  leniency  with  which  offenders  were 
treated.  On  November  9th,  1261,  "we  fixed  December  1 5th  for  [John] 
priest  of  Civi^res,  who  is  of  manifold  evil  report  for  divei's  vices,  to 
purge  himself  with  the  oaths  of  eight  other  priests  from  the  accusations 
of  incontinence,  adultery,  manifold  assaults,  and  tavern-haunting."  On 
December  1 6th  John  appeared  without  bis  compurgators :  he  was 
allowed  a  respite  until  the  Wednesday  before  Christmas  :  on  which  day 
he  failed  to  appear  at  all.  Meanwhile  the  Archbishop  instituted  an 
inquisition  into  his  case :  from  which  it  appeared  that  he  was  also  under 
ill  report  of  buffoonery,  and  that  the  witnesses  who  deposed  to  his 
offences  were  "  good  and  grave  men  " :  he  was  therefore  cited  again  and 
appeared  on  April  1st,  1262.  Here  a  day  was  again  fixed  for  his  pur- 
gation (April  1 7th)  :  meanwhile,  if  he  had  any  real  proof  of  innocence 
to  bring,  he  might  bring  it  next  day  (April  2nd) :  however,  "neither 
he  appeared,  nor  any  on  his  behalf,"  He  evidently  failed  to  find  com- 
purgators, for  on  June  7th  he  was  forced  to  sign  a  deed  admitting  that 

he  "  lay  under  grievous  ill  report of  incontinence  with  my  own 

parishioners  and  with  other  women,  of  tavem-haunting,  of  assault ;  and 
seeing  that  my  father  the  Archbishop  might  deal  hardly  with  me  on 
that  account,  if  he  were  so  minded,"  he  therefore  swears  in  due  legal 
frrm  to  resign  his  benefice  when  called  upon  by  the  Archbishop.  Two 
years  later,  September  21st,  1264,  he  is  again  "under  manifold  ill  report 
of  incontinence  "  and  is  given  the  17th  October  on  which  to  appear  with 
six  compurgators.  He  did  not  appear  :  but  on  November  5th  "  he 
appeared  with  seven  priests,  in  readiness  to  purge  himself  of  many 
vices  whereof  he  was  accused,  and  whereof  he  lay  also  under  manifold 


Appendix  D.  431 

ill-report.  But  we,  fearing  his  fury  and  that  of  the  priests  that  were 
with  him,"^'  and  recalling  that  undertaking  which  he  had  formerly  given 
ns  concerning  the  aforesaid  matters,  thought  best  to  remit  him  this  pur- 
gation, assigning  to  him  the  Tuesday  before  Christmas  to  fulfil  what  is 
contained  in  the  said  letter,  as  he  promised  under  his  own  oath."  On 
the  3rd  May,  1265,  he  was  at  last  brought  to  bay  and  compelled  to  beg 
for  mercy  :  upon  which  the  Archbishop  made  him  swear  that  he  would 
consider  his  living  as  vacant  on  July  29th  and  allow  another  to  be  put 
in  his  place.  On  the  8th  of  August  it  is  at  last  recorded  that  he  has 
actually  resigned  in  due  form.  (pp.  415,  417,  423,  434,  497,  502,  516, 
524,  666). 

There  are  many  other  cases  worse  in  certain  respects  than  either  of 
these — priests  who  had  formed  incestuous  connexions,  or  with  married 
women,  or  with  two  or  three  different  women,  or  who  regularly  haunted 
the  neighbouring  convents.  There  are  many  others  also  showing  almost 
as  strongly  as  those  I  have  quoted  the  difficulty  of  enforcing  the  law, 
even  when  the  prelate  happened  to  be  one  of  the  most  energetic  in 
Christendom,  and  the  diocese  one  of  the  most  civilized.  In  many  cases 
Endes  simply  bound  down  the  priests  to  heavy  fines  in  case  of  relapse ; 
in  others  (and  these  among  the  worse),  he  compelled  them  to  exchange 
into  other  provinces,  where  no  doubt  they  had  an  easier  time. 

I  am  publishing  similar  Adsitation  records  for  England  in  Medieval 
Studies,  No.  8,  "  Priests  and  People,"  which  will  probably  be  ready  in 
August,  1907.  In  these  English  records,  the  clergy  and  their  flocks  are 
presented  side  by  side :  and  the  former  supply,  in  proportion  to  their 
numbers,  from  five  to  ten  times  as  many  incontinents  as  the  laity.  I 
sjiy  from  five  to  ten  times,  because  it  depends  whether  we  accept  Thorold 
Rogers's  calculation  that  the  clergy  formed  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  total 
population,  or  Abbot  Gasquet's  more  probable  contention  that  they 
formed  only  one  hundred  per  cent.  It  is  worth  while  to  consider  for 
one  moment  what  this  means  in  modern  figures.  Thei-e  would  be,  under 
medieval  conditions,  about  350,000  priests  in  the  United  Kingdom  at 
the  present  day ;  and,  if  we  may  take  as  a  standard  Bishop  Morton's 
Norfolk  Visitations  of  1499  (Bodleian  MS.,  Tanner,  100,  f.  56),  there 
would  be  about  2,500  notorious  black  sheep  among  them  !  The  Ripon 
and  Beverley  Chapter  Acts  show  a  state  of  things  even  worse. 

D.  Religious  (i.e.  monastic  clergy).  I  have  already  pointed  out  in 
Medieval  Studies,  Nos.  1  and  6,  how  sti'ong  and  unimpeachable  is  the 
evidence  of  monastic  decay  fi-om  a.d.  1200  onwards;  and  the  list  of 
authorities  might  be  much  extended.    Cardinal  Jacques  de  Yitry  speaks 

•  Timentet  ne  ipse  cum  eisdem  presbyteris  delvraret,  a  phrase  which  is  sufficiently 
explained  by  Gascoigne  (1.  c.)  'no  townsman  of  Oxford  dare  object .  .  ..for,  if  he 
were  to  object  against  these  false  purgations,  then  the  accused  and  his  compurga- 
tor.i  would  secretly  maim  or  slay  him.'  It  is  possible  that  Eudes  remembered  how 
nearly  one  of  his  predecessors  m  the  see  of  Rouen  was  stoned  to  death  for  his 
seal  in  enforcing  the  laws  against  concubinary  priests. — Pommeraye,  p.  98. 


432  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

of  the  monks  before  the  Franciscan  movement  as  "keeping  an  outward 
show  of  piety  but  denying  its  inward  virtue  .  .  .  disobedient,  murmur- 
ers,  backbiters,  bearing  Christ's  cross  unwillingly,  unclean  and  inconti- 
nent, walking  after  the  flesh  and  not  after  the  spirit."  Turning  to  the 
nuns,  he  asserts  that  a  girl's  virtue  was  safe  among  none  but  those  of 
the  Cistercian  Rule  (Hist.  Occ,  caps  4  and  5).  Fifty  years  afterwards 
St  Bonaventura  writes,  •'  Seeing  that  .  .  .  the  late  Legate  in  Germany 
pronounced  a  general  sentence  of  suspension  from  office  and  from  benefice 
against  clergy  soliciting  nuns  of  any  order  whatsoever,  and  of  excom- 
munication against  those  who  seduced  them ;  and  whereas  Pope 
Gregory  IX  confirmed  this,  and  granted  to  few  confessors  the  power  of 
absolving  such  ofienders,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  many  are  bound  by  these 
sentences,  who  think  not  in  their  hearts  that  they  need  the  grace  of 
absolution  or  dispensation ;  yet  they  minister  in  this  state,  and  keep 
their  cures  of  souls,  and  receive  church  benefices  while  under  this 
anathema."  Gower,  who  had  no  personal  enmity  against  the  monks, 
speaks  even  more  strongly  a  century  later.  In  some  monasteries,  he  says, 
chastity  is  dead,  and  lechery  has  taken  her  place  :  very  many  (plures) 
monks  go  to  hell  for  women,  and  nuns  are  sometimes  seduced  by  the 
very  visitors  whose  office  it  is  to  guard  them  (Vox  Clamantis  iv,  327  ff, 
461,  495  :  much  of  this  is  repeated  in  his  Mirour  de  L'Omme).  His 
contemporary  St.  Catherine  of  Siena  asserts  that  unnatural  vices  reigned 
among  religious  and  parish  clergy  as  much  as  among  other  classes  :  the 
stench  of  these  sins  tortured  her  so  that  she  longed  for  death  as  a  relief. 
There  was  little  discipline  in  the  monasteries,  because  the  superiors  were 
often  as  bad  as  the  rank  and  file  :  monks  and  nuns  sin  together  **  and 
oft-times  {spesse  volte)  they  go  so  far  that  both  abandon  Holy  Religion, 
whereby  he  is  become  a  ruffian,  and  she  a  public  harlot"  (Dialogo,  ch. 
125  :  cf.  162).  Scarcely  a  generation  later,  the  great  Gerson  made  the 
same  accusation  of  unnatural  vices,  and  wrote,  "I  actually  doubt  whether 
boys  and  girls  do  not  sometimes  learn  worse  morals  ...  at  the  schools 
and  among  monks  and  nuns  {in  rdigionum  et  scholarum  contuhemiis) 
than  they  would  in  brothels."     (Ed.  Paris,  1606,  ii,  628). 

In  1414,  almost  at  the  same  time  as  Gerson  wrote  these  words,  the 
University  of  Oxford  addressed  to  Henry  V  a  series  of  articles  for  the 
reform  of  the  Church,  probably  in  view  of  the  Council  of  Constance. 
Although  several  of  these  articles  ai'e  strongly  anti-Lollard,  yet  those  in 
which  the  University  touches  difierent  failings  of  the  clergy  could 
scarcely  have  been  more  strongly  expressed  by  Wiclif  himself.  The 
"Religious"  exempt  from  episcopal  jurisdiction  were  very  numerous: 
probably  nearer  a  half  than  a  third  of  the  whole  number  in  England  : 
and  the  University  complains ;  "  Whereas  exempt  Religious,  at  the 
Devil's  persuasion,  are  frequently  defiled  with  fleshly  vices,  and  are  not 
punished  by  their  own  superiors,  but  their  sins  remain  unpunished, 
therefore  it  seems  expedient  to  appoint  that  the  ordinaries  may  have 
full  power  to  punish  and  reform  all  Religious,  and  especially  for  the 
crime  of  fornication  committed  outside  their  cloister."      (Wilkins,  iii. 


Appendix  D.  433 

363).  The  next  generation  brings  ns  to  another  distinguished  name, 
Tritheim,  an  abbot  of  that  Congregation  of  Bursfeld  which  owed  its  re- 
form to  Thomas  k  Kempis's  Congregation  of  Windesheim  :  and  this  leads 
me  to  point  out  an  extraordinarily  ineffectual  criticism  by  a  writer  in 
the  Contemporary  Review  for  September,  1906,  who  professes  con- 
siderable familiarity  with  medieval  history.  He  is  offended  at  my 
speaking  of  the  plain  evidence  for  monastic  decay,  and  writes :  "on  the 
whole  the  standard  was  much  higher  than  one  might  expect.  It  is 
noticeable  that  Thomas  k  Kempis  barely  hints  at  the  possibility  of 
moral  laxity."  This  criticism  betrays  a  very  strange  ignoi-ance  of 
monastic  history.  Thomas  a  Kempis  belonged  to  a  particularly  small 
and  select  Congregation  at  the  period  of  its  earliest  and  purest  activity, 
and  was  not  at  all  likely  to  write  of  gross  sins.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
a  scarcely  less  distinguished  contemporary,  himself  a  member  of  the 
same  Congregation,  has  left  enough  and  to  spare  of  that  evidence  which 
it  did  not  come  within  the  province  of  Thomas  a  Kempis  to  give — I 
allude  to  the  Liber  de  Reformatione  of  Johann  Buscb,  which  my  re- 
viewer would  have  done  well  to  read  side  by  side  with  k  Kempis. 
Johann  Busch,  a  Provost  in  his  own  Order,  spent  himself  in  the 
effort  to  reform  other  monasteiies  and  bring  them  under  the  strict 
Bursfeld  rule  :  he  records  the  most  startling  details,  and  tells  how  his 
life  was  more  than  once  in  danger  from  those  whose  immoralities  he 
attempted  to  check.  Tritheim,  who  wrote  some  thirty  years  after  Busch, 
and  who  was  an  Abbot  of  this  same  reformed  Congregation  of  Bursfeld, 
shows  how  short-lived  that  reform  had  been.  For  seventy  years,  he 
says,  scarcely  one  Abbot  of  his  own  house  of  Spanheim  had  died  in 
harness :  nearly  all  had  given  up  the  apparently  hopeless  task  of  bring- 
ing their  monks  to  order.  Again  and  again  Tritheim  enumerates  the 
great  monastic  reforms  of  the  past — including  this  of  Bursfeld  which  owed 
so  much  to  the  friends  of  Thomas  a  Kempis — but  only  to  lay  stress  on 
their  evanescence.  Addressing  his  fellow- Abbots  at  the  Chapter  General 
of  1493  he  asks  "  where  are  those  terrible  oaths  of  all  the  Abbots  of  our 
province,  whereby  they  swore  to  Cardinal  Cusanua  before  the  altar  of 

St.  Stephen  at  Wiirzburg  that  they  would  observe  the  Rule  1 

Behold    Fathers,  ye  have   127  abbeys   under  the  authority  of  your 

Chapter,  whereof scarce  70  have  remained  under  the  Reform. 

....  See  the  manner  of  life  both  of  abbots  and  monks,  whose  smoke 
goes  up  round  about,  which,  though  it  be  known,  I  blush  to  tell,  and  ye 
(most  reverend  Fathers)  shudder  to  hear  !  For  the  three  vows  of 
Religion  [poverty,  obedience  and  chastity],  which  by  reason  of  their 
excellence  are  called  'the  substantial  vows,'  these  men  care  no  more 

than  if  they  had  never  promised  to  keep  them The  whole  day 

is  spent  in  filthy  talk  .  .  .  they  despise  the  vow  of  poverty,  and  know 
not  that  of  chastity."  Again,  nobody  (he  says)  builds  new  churches  or 
endows  monasteries  nowadays ;  "  for  the  laity  say  '  Lo  !  sinful  priests 
and  monks  have  gotten  to  themselves  riches :  lo  1  they  despise  the 
worship  of  God  and  waste  their  substance  with  harlots.' "     (Preface  to 

Ft 


434  From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 

Homilies — De  Statu  et  Ruina,  c.  xi — Oratio  III :  cf.  De  Viris  Illust. 
lib.  i :  Declamatio  ad  Abbates,  c.  ii,  iii,  and  v). 

In  the  case  of  the  cloistered  clergy,  as  in  that  of  the  parish  priests, 
these  unfavourable  judgments  of  distinguished  and  orthodox  churchmen 
are  borne  out  by  official  records.  The  Lib&r  de  Re/or matione  of  Johann 
Busch  is,  in  itself,  sufficient  to  explain  the  depth  of  that  moral  impulse 
which  undoubtedly  underlay  those  wild  passions  and  frequent  injustices 
of  the  Refonnation.  Abbot  Gasquet's  Henri/  Vl/I  and  the  English 
Monasteries,  with  all  its  show  of  full  documentary  evidence  on  less 
important  points,  ignores  most  unaccountably  the  mass  of  obvious  and 
unimpeachable  evidence  against  the  monasteries  during  the  four  centuries 
preceding  the  Reformation.  When  we  take  this  ignorance  in  conjunction 
with  his  constant  professions  of  familiarity  with  the  subject,  his  flat  re- 
fusal either  to  give  chapter  and  verse  for  some  of  his  most  important 
statements  or  to  discuss  them  publicly,  and  the  fact  that  his  strongest 
support  has  for  some  time  come  from  anonymous  articles  and  anonymous 
books,  it  is  difficult  not  to  conclude  that  the  defenders  of  the  monastic 
legend  are  at  last  driven  to  the  last  ditch  in  which  the  defenders  of  the 
Loretto  legend  are  now  fighting  abroad — that  of  more  or  less  wilful 
ignorance  and  of  misrepresentations  hurled  from  the  dark  corners  of 
periodical  literature.  Any  reader  who  cares  to  realize  the  shifts  to 
which  Abbot  Gasquet's  supporters  have  by  this  time  been  reduced,  even 
in  their  own  journals,  may  refer  to  the  Tablet  for  Dec.  9,  1906,  and 
following  numbers,  and  Demain  for  May  3,  1907,  ff. 


INDEX. 


N.B. — Names  of  persons  are  generally  indexed  under  the  Christian  name, 
except  in  a  few  cases  of  titles,  or  where  the  surname  has  by  custom  become  far 
the  better  known  of  the  two.  Some  unimportant  names  of  places  and  persons 
are  altogether  omitted  from  this  index. 


ACQUASPARTA  ...      110, 222 

Adam  Marsh,  or  de  Marisco,  56,  146, 

165,  168,  2.39 

Adam  le  Kigaud ...  290 

Adamo,  (the  family  of) 4 

Adrian  V.  109,  251 

AfiFarosi      212 

Agatho,  Abbot     28 

Agnello  of  Pisa     ..  81 

Agnes,  Salimbene's  niece,  4,  17,  19, 

39,  18.5,  .318 

Agostino  da  Recanati      84 

Aicardo,  Amerigi  13 

Aix 167,  172,  311 

Alberigo  da  Romano,  187,   248,  249, 

250,  257,  313 
Albert  of  Parma  ...  84,  85,  328 

Albert  of  Pisa      343 

Albert  the  Fowler  ..  .105 

Albertino  of  Verona       ...        90,  124 

Alberto  Balzolano  84 

Alberto  Cremonella        ...        42,  160 

Alberto  (false  saint)        307 

Albertus  Magnus  ..         13,  284 

Aldebrando,  (Bro.)  90 

Alessandria  ...         178 

Alexander  IV.  108,  175,  277,  294,  322 
Alexander  of  Hales        ..  ...  241 

Alfonso  of  Castillo  159 

Alleluia,  the  Great  ...        21,228 

Alpine  Climbing  ..  246 

Alvemia  (see  La  Vernia) 

Amis  and  Amiles  277 

Amizo  degli  Amici  47 

Anastagio  degli  Onesti : 195 

Anastasius,  Pope 316 

Ancona       190,  228,  322 

Andrea  di  Treffo 120 

Andrew  of  Bologna        Ill 

Angela  of  Foligno  63 

Angelico  (Fra)      314 

Angelo  (Bro.)        339 

Angelo  Clareno   25,  76,  110,  161,  170 


Anglicanism  and  the  13th   century 

Church  150 

Animals,  Treatment  of     90,  110,  119 

Anselm,  St.  30 

Anselmo  Rabuino  of  Asti       112,  173 

Anselmo  di  Sanvitale      308 

Anthony  of  Padua  174,  183,  197,  198, 

308  318 
Antichnst  ...   152,  159,  240,  327,  350 
Antisacerdotalism    152,  164,  165,  192 

Antonino,  St 209 

Antonio  da  Musso  78 

Antonio  (false  saint)        308 

Apostasy   ..  ..  74,  100,  168 

Aquileia     ...  260 

Aquinas,  St.  Thomas  13.  63,  150,  284, 
311,    315 — his    doctrines    con- 
demned 315 
Archdeaconry  and  Damnation  ...  284 

Architecture         62, 351 

Ardoino  da  Chiavari        321 

Arezzo       86 

Argenta     266,  270 

Aristotle  57,  68 

Aries      143,146,169 

Armanno  Punzilovo        308 

Arsenius,  St.         ..  259 

Art  and  Morals 351 

Arverio      ...  253 

Asdente      ...  113,  213,  214,  217 

Assisi  45.  47,  84,  85,  86,  87,  186,  189 
338,  351 

Asti  112,  198 

Astrology  213 

Atto  da  Sesso       229 

Augustine  (St.)    29,  97,  151,  279,  310 

Aureole      169,  174 

Auxerre     ...    137,  138,  139,  143,  154 

Avanzio       107 

Avicenna 67 

Avignon     69,  106,  176,  283 

Ayca  196,  197 

Ay  men  of  Faversham    ...        48,  106 


436 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Azzo  di  Sanvitale  ...         IS,  54 

Aizo,  VII  of  Este  113 

Azzo,  VIII  of  Este         ...      202,251 
Azzolino      229 

BACON,  ROGER  43,  56, 58, 223,  239, 

298. 
Baenacavallo        ...         186,  252, 287 
Baldwin  of  Flanders       ...         ...     12 

Balian  of  Sidon    12,  18 

Balsam  Vine         172 

Bartholomew  the  Englishman    ..     42 

Bartholomew  of  Padua 87 

Bartholomew  of  Vicenza  ...  254 

Bartolino  Tavernario      255 

Bartolo  Tavernario  116 

Bartolommeo  Gniscolo  of  Parma  112, 

139,  153,  154 
Bartolommeo  Pucci  (St.)  ...  310 

Beatrice      200,  202,  309 

Beatrice,  da  Gente  I         ..      228,  233 

Beatrice,  da  Gente,  II 229 

Beaucaire ..  147 

Beaune       137 

Belfort       ...        86 

Bellincion  Berti    ...         ...         ...       2 

Benedict,  (St.)  100, 136,  137, 151,  174, 

180,  289,  310 
Benedict  of  the  Horn     ...  22,  40 

Benevento ...         ...  193 

Benvenuto  da  Imola  15,  71,  100,  133, 

214,  247,  253,  283,  300,  302 

Benvenuto  of  Modena 103 

Bergamo     118, 218 

Bernabo  dei  Palastrelli    ..         ...203 

Bernabo  di  Regina  227 

Bernard,  (St.)  59, 62,  95, 160,  270, 284, 

306 
Bernard  of  Besse  ...    64,  71,  3.38,  343 
Bernard  of  Morlaix         ...        55,  352 
Bernard  of  Quintavalle  49,  79,  87,  174 

315 
Bernardino  da  Buzea      ...         ...  255 

Bernardino  of  Ravenna  ...         ...  210 

Bernardino  of  Siena  (St.)  14,  111,  157, 

298,  300,  .301,  304 

Bernardo  Bafolo 104 

Bernardo  (Card) 251,  272 

Bernardo  di  Cassio  17 

Bernardo  Guglielmi        ..  ...  209 

Bernardo  Rossi        120,  121,  124,  127 

Bernardo  Vizi        285 

Berthold  of  Aquileia      244 

Berthold  of  Ratisbon  12,  20,  32,  74, 

75,  294,  299,  300,  302 

Bertinoro  183 

Bertolino 173,  179 

Besmantova  274 


Bianello     ...  209,  228,  229,  2.30 

Bibbiano 208 

Bible,  101,  103,  112,  159,  184,  186, 
243,  245,  282 ;  and  friars,  303  ; 
forbidden  303  ;  ignorance  of  53, 
56,  261,  302,  305 :  knowledge  of 
10.  80,  232;  interpretation  of  119, 
182 
Bishop,   heretical  287  ;  resigns   180, 

181  ;  scene  at  his  table  332 
Bishops,  avaricious  286 ;  evil  283, 
285,  286,  287;  German  284; 
good  287-289 ;  negligent  275,  330 ; 
their  quarrels  286 
Bishopric,  danger  of  95,  112,  270, 280, 
284 ;  dreaded  180 

Blanche,  Queen 188 

Blasphemy  ...         221,  242,  323 

Bobbio        183 

Boccaccio 195,  222,  283 

Boiardi       .  ...  210 

Bologna  12,  25,  26,  39,  48,  80,  84,  85, 
102,  106,  112,  124,  132,  140,  181, 
184,  189,  190,  194,  197,  199,  217, 
235,  236,  255,  258,  260,  290,  311, 
321,  338 
Bonagiunta  of  Fabriano  ...  112 

Bonagrazia    (Minister-General)     106, 

234 

Bonaventura  (St.)   13,  44,  56,  62,  63, 

64,  65,  66,  74,  75,  96,  106,  108, 

109,  111,  145,  158.  170,  239,  253, 

254,  280,  283,  284,  289.  290,  292, 

294,  297,  298,  303.  304,  313,  315, 

321,  323,  336,  338,  340,  341,  343, 

344,  345,  346,  .350,  351 

Bonaventura  da  Iseo         84,  113,  327 

Boniface  VIII       ...  59,  152,  198 

Bonifazio  Boiardi  ...         ...  210 

Bonifazio  Fieschi  ...      277,  286 

Bonifazio  da  Gente  229 

Bonifazio  (Podesta  of  Reggio)  . . .  230 
Books,  scarcity  of  6  ;  destruction 

of  160.  107 

Borgo  San  Donnino      118,    125,    127, 

128,  131,  152,  186,  190,  214,  223 

Bourbon  Etienne  de        295,  301,  302 

Boy   Bishop  328 ;    Preacher  326 ;   at 

school  328 


Bozon         

295,  340 

Brancaleone          

...  160 

Brescia       ...            115,  163, 

188,  213 

Brewer  (Prof.)      

292,  337 

Bribery       

279,  281 

Buoncompagno     

25,26 

Buoncompagno  da  Prato 

...  336 

Buondio     

113,  262 

Buoso  da  Duera 

251,  271 

Index. 


437 


Burigardo  206,  207 

Bnsch        71,  299,  303,  314 

Batchers  of  Reggio         225 

CACCIAGUIDA 2,206 

Csesarius  of  Heisterbach  9,  30,  67, 
5"^^  70, 1 19, 239,  275, 284, 292,  296, 298 
Csesarius  of  Spires  ...      174,  315 

Camerino  '.  110 

Campaldino  200 

Canigou,  Mt         246 

Canon,  under ical  ...         ...  180 

Canonization,    popular    40,  88,    111. 
291,  306,  308,  310,  capricious  101 
Canossa,  Abbot,  229,  231  ;  monk  of 
206,  207,  209,  221,  232 

Cantarelli 10 

Capua  (Convent  of)         153 

Caracosa     ..  ...         17 

Cardinalate,  modernity  of  ...  281 

Cardinals,  unworthy  146,  181,  278, 
279  ff ;  luxurious  274,  331 ;  world- 
ly 181 

Carlino  de'  Grimaldi       70 

Carnival     221 

Casella       100,  134 

Caterpillars  ...         ...         ...  224 

Catherine  of  Siena  (St.)     40,  298,  302 

Cecilia  (Abbess) 76 

Oedonius  (St.)       167 

CelestinelV 276 

CelestineV 150,284 

Chamb^ry  177 

Champagne  135 

Charity      ...         ...     13,  16,  114,  177 

Charlemagne         91,  241 

Charles  of  Anjou,  123,  129,  140,  143, 

195,  202,  227,  2.37,  245  ff,  311, 313 

Chaucer    5,65,74,97,163,256,303,339 

Chess  228,  241,  286 

Chiassi       311 

Children,  foundling        24 

Chivalry,  defects  of        ...        20,253 
(See  also  Women). 

Chrysanthus,  St 97 

Chrysostom,  St.  John    ...       97,  288 

Church  (Dean)      7 

Church,  a  part  of  daily  life  69,  99, 
.307  ;  its  discipline  330 ;  corrupt- 
ion of  57,  151,  153,  165,  283,  285 
Churches,  dirt  of  297  ;  used  as  fort- 
resses 208  301  ;  dogs  in  286 ; 
separation  of  sexes  in  301  ;  sleep 
in  67  ;  services  too  long  67  ;  the 
builders  of  351  ;  fights  in  301  ; 
^fl.i  improprieties  in  301,  328  ;   mag- 

'    nihcenee  of  Franciscan  338 
CiangheUa  15,  16 


Cistercians  328,  340 

Clare  (St.)  ..    19,  175,  318,  325 

ClareUo      ...  263 

Clarisses 77,  341 

ClMat,  Prof 10.200 

Clement  IV  268,  277 

Clergy  and  civil  wars  210 ;  and  politics 
287 ;  and  drink  270 ;  embezzlement 
by  285  ;  evil  164,  180,  181,  293 ; 
ignorant  68,  276,  289,  293,  298  ; 
examinations  of  298  ;  gabble  their 
services  300 ;  keep  inns  297 ; 
Italian  worse  than  English  or 
French  292  ;  murdered  209,  210, 
211  ;  gain  money  from  relics  and 
saints  307,  311  ;  unpopular  188, 
225,  333  ;  avarice  of  309  ;  morals 
of  209,  261,  283,  285,  287,  293, 
294,  296,  297,  314,  351 ;  marriages 
of  296 

Cluny         52,136,272 

Colmar       173 

Cologne      38, 284 

Columban  (St.) 183 

Comet         277 

Communion  infrequent 301 

Compostella  329 

Confession,  dangers  of    ...      293,  295 

Confirm  ation,  neglected 30 1 

Conrad       193,  264, 265 

Conrad  of  Berceto  120 

Conrad  of  Offida 43 

Conrad  von  Weilheim    339 

Conradin 131,  193 

Constance,  Empress        ...      240,  283 

Constantinople     313 

Contrade  (of  Pisa)  ...        ...    98 

Corinth      ,...  1,01 

Corpus  Christi      306 

Correggio 228,  233 

Cortona      86 

Corto-passo  .  .  123 

Costanza 15,  240 

Counter-Reformation      150 

Cremona  19,  39,  59,  81,  115,  117,  120, 
122,  124,  125,  126,  127,  131.  134, 
137,  191,  202,  217,  233,  234,  236, 
271,  307,  308 

Crucifix  and  miracle        95 

Cruelties  115,  125,  126,  196, 197,  202, 

207,  209,  237,  253,  266 
Crusades  12  ;  disbelief  in  154  ;  failure 
of  187  ;  of  boys  43 ;  money  em- 
bezzled 198,  200,  278,  279 
Crusaders  ill-treated       ...      172.  246 

Cumffi         ...         23 

Cuthbert  (Fr.)      ...        292,  311,  .337 


438 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


DAMIAN  (St.  Peter)     31 

Damasus  (Pope) 281 

Dant«  1,  2,  4.  6,  9,  15,  17.  20,  56,  59, 
63.  66,  71,  84,  91,  100,  109,  110, 
113,  132,  133,  1S4,  147,  150,  183, 
193,  195,  197,  199,  200,  202.  205, 
206,  210,  213,  214,  222,  227,  236, 
237,  239,  240,  241,  243,  246,  247, 
251,  253,  254,  258,  270,  273,  276, 
277,  278,  286,  298,  302,  305,  306, 
309,  314,  315,  316,  317,  332,  .334, 
388,  339,  340,  349,  350,  351,  352. 
353 ;  illustrated  by  Salimbene 
20  ;  his  religious  ideas  305 
David  of  Augsburg  31,  64,  65,  66,  317, 
346 

Death,  fear  of      80,241 

Dego  ...  225 

Denifle  (Father) 151 

Devil  163  ;  power  of  in  Middle  Ages 
'       317;  as  angel  of  light  318;  in 
shape  of  Christ  318  ;  letter  from 
297.  ?-r^ 

Diotisalve  '. 27,  29,  38,  39 

Distillation  114 

Divorce      78,  255 

Dog,  the  butcher's  236  ;  in  church  286 
Dolcino(Fra.)       ...  164,332,333 

Dominic  (St.)    12,    25,   27,   55,    162, 
280,  308,  310,  318 ;   canonization 
of  27 
Dominicans  201,  306,  340;  and  Fran- 
ciscans 148 

Douceline  (St.)     ...  148 

Dove  (Alfred)        5 

Dresdner  8 

Drudo  (Bro.)        ...         113 

Durandus  .  .         ...         ...  103 

EARTHQUAKES   12,   79,   80,  223, 

287,  288 

Easter  candle        179 

Eclipse  78,  223 

Edmund  Rich  (St.)  ...      315,  318 

Edward  I  246,  315 

Egidio  Scorza        114 

Ehrle,  Father       75 

Elephant  42 

Elias  (Bro.)  24,  30,  43,  44,  45.  49,  73, 

76  ff,  89,  90,  115,  174,  186,  242 

Eliseus       ...  267 

Elizabeth  of  Hungary  (St.)  31,  244. 

340 
Elizabeth  of  Portugal  (St.)        ...     31 

Embrun      177,271,288 

Emperor,  the  longing  for  a  good    58 
England  and  English  109,  179,  237, 

292,  338  ;  friars  strict  179,  338 


Enverardo  of  Brescia     ...        ...  266 

Enzio,  King  ...         117,  124,  174 

Ephesus     313 

Ermengarda  di  Adamo 16 

Ermengarda  da  Palude 114 

Este  251 

Etienne  de  Bourbon  15,  279,  295,  300, 

302,  304 
Eudes  Rigaud  140,  142,  239,  289,  290, 

294,  296,  298 
Everlasting  Gospel  ...         ...  151 

Evil  Times  293 

Exiles        ...    116,  197,  198,  205,  308 
Ezzelino       ..  115,  159,  187,  247 

Ezzelino  da  Romano   113,  115,  118, 

159,  187,  244,  247,  262,  263,  264, 

265,  266 

FAENZA  60,  84,  185,  186,  193,  197, 
198,  199,  227,  267,  271,  287,  330, 
331,  341 

Faith  305 

Famine      163,  190 

Fano  44,  45,  47,  49,  85,  112,  294 

Fasts  violated       221 

Feast  of  Fools      39,328 

Ferrara  6,  24,  103,  106,  113,  184,  185, 
187,  189,  197,  202,  245,  248,  251, 
260,  262,  287,  290,  308,  327,  342 

Ferrarello  209 

Feudalism  253 

Fiord' Oliva         78 

Fioretti       74,  109,  315,  317,  3.34,  342 

Fishmongers  of  Reggio 224 

Flagellants  158,  191 

Flamenca  .  .         ...  09 

Flanders  (Count  of )       ...         132,195 
Florence  15,  27,   131,  132,  202,  205, 
258,  310,  314,  3.38,  351  ;  Baptist- 
ery of  309 
Florentines,  levity  of  25,  27,  28,  29, 
183,  310 

Fontanaviva  328 

Forgery      253 

Forli  186 

Francesca  da  Rimini  ...  210,252 
Francis  (St.)  1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  9,  11,  18, 
23,  24,  25,  30,  31,  36,  40.  49,  51, 
53,  55,  56,  57,  62,  63,  65,  72,  73, 
74,  79,  81,  83,  85,  86,  87,  88,  89, 
90,  93,  100,  102,  105,  108,  109, 
111,  118,  132,  133,  148,  151,  152, 
170,  171,  179,  180,  189,  198,  219, 
220,  239,  246,  247,  258,  260,  264, 
265,  268,  271,  276,  278,  289.  297, 
298,  310,  314,  315,  317,  318,  319, 
322,  325,  333,  .334,  335,  336,  337,  "SBX 
338,  339,  340,  341,  343,  346,  .349, 


Index. 


439 


Francis  (St.) — continued. 

351,  353 ;  his  failure  1  ;  his  stig- 
mata 339  ;  his  pious  theft  30 

Franciscans,  unconventional  332 ;  and 
Cistercians  234  ;  and  Dominicans 
47,  155,  158,  162,  290,  340 

Fraticelli 165 

Frati  Godenti  130,  199,  205.  254 

Frederick  II  2,  6,  10,  12,  15,  41,  42, 
60,  76,  79.  86,  110,  115,  116,  117, 
122,  123,  124,  126,  134,  135,  136, 
152,  157,  158,  165,  174,  186,  187, 
193,  196,  206,  213,  222,  238,  240, 
241,  279,  313;  his  death  189, 
245  ;  character  241 ;  cruelty  115, 
120,  242 ;  selfishness  121  ;  sense 
of  humour  244 ;  as  Antichrist 
79 ;  excommunicated  by  Innocent 
IV  115 

French  292  ;  in  Italy  237 

Friars  {See  also  Dominican,  Francis- 
can, Spirituals)  ;  and  animals  90, 
1 10  ;  average  334  ;  their  begging 
51,  182,  338;  and  Benedictines 
235 ;  and  Bible  303  ;  and  books 

82,  83,  101,  103,  154,  161  ;  buf- 
foonery 27 ;  their  buildings  203 
219,  335,  338  ;  change  of  super- 
iors 90  ;  charity  124,290;  clean- 
liness 70 ;  creature-comforts  200  ; 
conversions  18,  25,  104 ;  con- 
science-money 48,  190,  253,  340  ; 
courage  23,  104,  263  ;  decay  92, 
93 ;  chap,  xxvi  passim ;  and 
democracy  235,  254 ;  and  devils 
297  ff ;  and  discipline  73,  83,  86, 
106,   335,   343 ;    dissensions  78, 

83,  85,  87,  89  ;  doubts  317  ;  dress 
70,  82,  336;  as  educators  303; 
their  encroachments  1 75, 234, 340; 
EngUsh  (see  under  English) ;  good 
chap,  ix  passim;  free  thought 
among  150,  151,  165  ;  and  funer- 
als 340  ;  gifts  to  189,  219,  256  ; 
and  gossip  64,  74,  145,  178, 
281 ;  their  hardships  44,  51,  74; 
hermitages  81,  82  ;  hospitality  to 
94,  106 ;  humility  101  ;  hysteri- 
cal 317  ;  ignorant  69  ;  indecorous 
29  ;  irreverent  66  ;  labour  107  ; 
lax  74  ;  luxurious  74,  92,  338  fif ; 
and  money  220,  325,  335,  338 ; 
morality  of  72,  172,  190,  3.34; 
and  nuns  78,  100,  189,  268, 
341  ;  and  pariah  clergy  293, 
297,  307,  340 ;  as  peace-makers 
190,  194,  202,  208,  210,  217, 
226 ;  persecutors,  23,  201 ;  poli- 


Friars — continued. 

tics  125,  251  ;  and  popes  276, 
347  ;  popular  346  ;  poverty  alleged 
338  ;  and  prison  84,  154,  345 ; 
pri-vileges  235 ;  puritanism  62 
334  ;  revivalists  23  ;  and  robbers 
221  ;  and  salvation  55,  180,  335  ; 
their  secrecy  344 ;  study  177, 
179  ;  suicide  50,  319  ;  supper  44  ; 
table  manners  65  ;  tertianes  148, 
254,  323  ;  two  and  two  82  ;  un- 
popular 78,  154,  188,  201,  219, 
220,  308,  343,  344,  350 ;  unsacer- 
dotal  81,  332 ;  and  vagabondage 
185  ;  visitations  84,  85,  108  ;  in 
war  23,  198,  264;  weakness  of 
their  ideal  70,  71,  72,  343,  346 ; 
and  Wesleyans  346  ;  and  women 
64,  71,  82,  96,  100,  146,  341  ; 
youth  of  42 

Foligno      203 

Fontanaviva         159,  160 

ForU  90,  186,  197,  199 

Fornovo  (Archpriest  of )  ...  210 


GABRIEL  (Bro.) 

..    137 

Galla  Placidia 

...  193 

Gambling 

221, 

241,  323 

Games 

... 

217,  227 

Gardner,  E.  G.     ... 

...  302 

Garso  de'  Garsoni 

..    209 

Gasquet  (Abbot) 

72,  299 

Gautier,  Leon 

...     14 

Gebhart     

io. 

151,  200 

Genoa    43,  70.  78,  124,  167, 171,  172, 

173,  174,  175,  176,  177,  178,  179, 

181,  183,  184,  187,  188,  215,  216, 

289.  336,  340. 

Geoffroi  de  Peronne  ...  95,  284 

Gerard  of  Borgo  San  Donnino  162  flF. 

Gerard  de  Frachet  66 

Gerard  of  Modena  24,  26,  30,  42,  43, 
84,  89 

Gerard  of  Villamagna     310 

Gerardo  Albo       64 

Gerardo  Boiardi 210 

Gerardo  di  Canale  ...      120,  121 

Gerardo  di  Cassio  17 

Gerardo  de' Campsori     266 

Gerardo  de'  Senzanesi    47 

Gerardino  of  Parma        189 

Gerardino  Segarello  (See  SegareUo) 
Gerson  18,  59,  63,  192,  301,  313 


Gesta  Romanorum 
Gherardino  Ansaldi 
Ghidino      ...        ... 

Ghino  Cittadella  ... 
Ghiotto  (Bro.) 


296 
205 
321 
309 
830 


440 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Ohiberto  da  Gente  190,  228,  229,  232, 

255 

Ghirardino  da  Eiizola      204 

Ghisla        17 

Giacomello  209 

Giacoinino  da  Berceto  ...   1 12 

Giacomiuo  da  Cassio       243 

Giacomino  of  Reggio  22,  25 

Giambonitani        ...  ..  322 

Giles  (Bro.)  100,  102,  174,  317 

Gilles  de  Retz       257 

Ginepro  (See  Juniper) 
Giordano  da  Rivalto 
Giovanna  (Beata) 
Giovanni  Barisello 

Giovanni  Bono      

Giovanni  de'  Nizi 
Giovanni  Parenti 
Giovannino  dalle  Olle 
Giovannino  Pigolino 
Giuliano  da  Sesso 
Giullietta  da  Polenta 
Giuletta  degli  Adhelardi 
Glass,  magnifying 

Glosses,  Bible       

Gnats         

Golden  Legend     

Gower        

Grazia  (Bp.) 

Greccio       ...         

Gregorio 

285 
Gregory, 

193 
Gregory  IX.  41,  86,  89,  98,  100,  215, 

223,  244,  258,  268,  276,  309 
Gregory  X.  245,  268,  272,  277,  279, 

283,  284,  322,  329,  335 

Gregory  (Bp.)       285 

Grenoble 177 

Grisopola 19 

Grosseteste  ...  56,  146,  280,  315 

Gualterotto  241 

Guarino     18, 54 

Guastalla 228 

Guglielma  (false  saint) 308 

Guglielmo  Fogliani  225.  286,  335 

Guglielmo  Marchese        ...         ...  210 

Guglielmo  de'  Lupicini   ...      210,  212 
Guibert  de  Nogent  ...  30,  59,  309 

Gaido  (Salimbene's  father)  12,  45,  231 
Guido  (Salimbene's  brother)  13,   17, 

18,  54,  79 
Guido  (Bro.)         102 


...  253 

...  310 

128  ff 

...  322 

130,  205 

...    82 

169  flf 

...  155 

.      125,  126 

...  327 

...  322 

...  311 

53,  182 

...  224 

..  167 

...    71 

...  285 

.      109,  110 

da   Montelungo   123,  260, 
(St.)  63,  92,  109,  155,  162, 


Guido  da  Albareto 

230 

Guido  Bonatti 

26.  90 

Guido  da  Bianello 

228ff 

Guido  Correggio  ... 

...      231, 236 

Guido  Malabocoa 252 

Guido  da  Montefeltro  ...  29,  198 
Guido  (Novello)  da  Polenta  210,  252 
Guido  (Vecchio)  da  Polenta      ...  252 

Guido  Putagio      325,  331 

Guido  da  Sesso     ..  124 

Guido  da  Tripoli 221 

Guidolino  da  Enzola       16 

Guidolino  of  Ferrara      235 

Guidolino  Gennaro  112 

Guillaume  de  St.  Amour  ...     53 

Gulielmotto  of  Apulia     ...      196,197 

HAWTREY  (Miss)        303 

Haymo  of  Hythe  299 

Heinrich  Raspe 264 

Uelinand  of  Froidmont 100 

Henry  (da  Musso)  78 

Henry  of  Pisa  ..  98,  99,  100,  101 

Henry  III  of  England  108,  246,  315 
Henry  VI  (Emp.)  ..      240,  309 

Henry  VII  (Emp.)  ...        59,  315 

Henry  of  Lifege 283 

Hens,  plague  among       234 

Heresy  23,  302  ;  burning  for  162,  201, 

332 

Heresy -hunting 306,  346 

Hermitess,  her  marriage  ...  330 

History,  ignorance  of      ...  ..     58 

Holder-Egger,  Prof.  1,  130,  156,  185, 

287 
Honorius  I,  his  heresy    ...         ..    316 

HonoriusIII        276 

Honorius  IV    234,  245,  278,  279,  332 

Host,  neglect  of 297 

Houses,  frail  nature  of    ...       60,  208 

Hugh  of  St.  Victor        66 

Hugh  of  St.  Cher 282 

Hugues  de  Digne  79,  143,  flf ;  280  fT ; 

322 
Humbert  de  Romans  56,  66,  162 

Hy^res  143  ff. 

IDOLATRY  69,  306,  309,  318 

Ignorance  breeds  intolerance  ...  304 
lUumination  (art  of)  98,  112,  153 

lUuminato  (Bro.) 45,174 

Imelda  (da  Adamo)         13 

Immaculate  Conception 306 

Imola  15,  61,  132,  160,  185 

Incest         296 

Indulgences  34,  193,  347 

Infidelity  (or  free  thought)  163,  165, 

188,  232,  243,  285,  309,  311,  313, 

316 
Innocent  III  2, 56,  67,  150, 181,  273ff, 

283,  286,  314,  347 


Index. 


441 


Innocent  IV  13,  18,  54,  76,  108, 115, 
118,  121,  122,  134,  135,  169,  174, 
178,  181,  188,  195,  245,  259,  262, 
276,  280,  281,  282,  283,  285,  340 

Inquisition  350 

Intolerance,  causes  of  52,  162,  304  314, 
350 

Irreverence  15,  66,  68.  90,  220,  247, 
287,  297,  299,  327,  328 

JACOBINODA  ENZOLA       ...     16 
Jacobino  da  Palude         229,  231,  253 

Jacopo  degli  Assandri     113 

Jacopo  di  Bernardo         267 

Jacopo  of  Bersello  ...  . .  125 

Jacopo  da  Enzola  ...        54,  204 

Jacopo  de' Ferrari  201 

Jacopo  da  Iseo      ...         ...         ...     78 

Jacopo  dalia  Massa         109 

Jacopo  of  Pa  via 107,125 

Jacopo  da  Varagine  39,  167,  192 

Jacopone  da  Todi  65,  289,  332 

Jacques  de  Vitry,  30,  55,   198,  252, 

286   295 
James  of  the  Mark  (St.)  157, 162,  275, 

304,  316 

Jean  de  Brienne 240,  247 

Jerome  (St.)  63,  281 

Jesi  49,  240 

Je88opp(Dr.)        301,337 

Jews  52,  113,  303 

Joachim  of  Fiore  32,  40,  68,  79,  113, 

146,    148,    150  flf.  167,  171,  176, 

213,  245,  278,  279,  323 
Joacbisra  108,  148,  149,  171,  176,  189, 

240,  328.»tli,liHYi^o 

Jocelin  (Bro.)         173 

Johann  Busch        299,  314 

Johannes  de  Laudibna     87 

John  (St.)  Ill 

John  XXI  (Pope)  105 

John  XXII  346 

John  (0.  P.)         162 

John  of  BibbiaQo  ...         ..    125 

John  of  Brienne        15,  240,  241,  247 

John  the  Frenchman       155 

John  of  La  Vernia  43 

John  the  Leech     234 

John  of  Lodi        87 

John  of  Parma  32,  103,  ff,  141,  142, 

146.   152,  160,  167,  168,  169,  170, 

173,  174,  176,  182,  18.S,  185,  246, 

282,  306,  315 

John  of  Pavia      107 

John  of  Piano  Carpine   ...      135,  1.36 

.John  of  Ravenna  112 

John  of  Salisbury  ...284 

John  of  Vicenza  25,  26,  27.  29 


Joinville  9,  52,  143, 144,  239,  255,  313 

Jordan  of  Giano ...  334 

Jordan  of  Saxony    162,  280,  283,  343 

Julian  (Emp.)       206 

Juniper  (Bro.)       ...  65,289,332 

Justice        ...     84,  209,  231,  255,  312 

KILWARDBY  (Abp.) 315 

Knighthood  (see  also  Nobility)  cere- 
monies of  202,  336  ;  bought  253  ; 
perfect  256 ;  courtesy  of  207  ; 
honour  of  246,  252  ;  and  ruffians 
313 
Knox-Little  (Canon)    ...     31,  63,  253 

LA  ROCflELLE  137 

La  Tour  Landry  (Kt.  of)  5,  14,  253, 

295,  299 

La  Vernia  339 

Laudshut 339 

Landslip 177 

Langland 350 

Last  Judgment  imminent  56,  58,  162, 

223 

Lateran  Council 275,  .323 

Latino  (Card.)       271 

Laudibus  (John  de)         87 

Lavagna     76,  340 

Lawrence  (St.)      93 

Lay-Brethren,  their  irregularities  82  ; 

and  clerics  83,   84  ;   discouraged 

Lazarus      167 

Lea  (Dr.)    ...        8,  151,  286,  296,  321 

Legates,  Papal      136,  252  flf 

Lempp  (Dr.)  44 

Leo  (Bro.)  102,118 

Leo  of  Milan        23,  24 

Loderingo  degli  Andaloi  ..    254 

Lodi  80 

JK>dovico  di  San  Bonifazio         ...  256 

Loisy  (Abb6)         164 

liOrenzo  (Bro.)      189 

Lothario  (Bro.)     339 

Louis  (St.)  37,  52  108,  124,  137,  140, 

142,  143,  144,  153,  172,  187,  188. 

237,  246,  289,  290,  299,  313,  315, 

345 
Lucca  50,  77,  78,  79,  99,  146,  217,296  j 

Santo  Volto  of  310 

Luitgardis  (St.) '*75 

Luke  (Bro.)  137 

Luther       ...  347 

Lynn  337 

Lyons  13,  66,  116,  122,  134,  1.35,  143, 

169,  176,  177,  178,  181,  183,  187, 

189,   202.   282;  council  of    146, 


Ga 


442 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Lyons — contmued. 

277,  280,  283,  289,  290;  court  of 
174 

MABEL  (Lady) US 

Macaroni 108 

Macaulay 34 

Macdonell  (Miss)  3,  10,  44,  75,  148,j|di? 
■ ;:  239,  319  :^'*,Wi  i7M-?,3«v,3^q 
Magdalene  ...         167,  311,  312 

Magic         261,  274 

Mahomet 188 

Malatesta  of  Eimini       ...      198,227 
Manfred  123,  192,  193,  195,  240,  247, 

271 

Manfred  da  Cornazano 78 

Manfred  of  Modena        262 

Maufredino  (Lord)  230 

Manfrediuo  di  Rosa        129 

Manna        172 

Manners     13,  46,  94,  181 

Mansueto  da  Castiglione  .    277 

Mantna       ...      41,  188,  252,  290  322 

Map,  Walter        38 

Marcherio  da  Montecchio  . .  205 

Marchese  Lupi      256 

Margaret  of  Trent  333 

Mariolatry  119,  303 

Mark  of  Milan     173 

Mark  of  Montefeltro  111,  170 

Markesopolo  Pallavicino         113,114 
Marseilles  144,  145,  148,  167,  171,  174, 

289. 

Martha  (St.)         167 

Martilla       ..    167 

Martin  IV     198,  199,  214,  217,  227, 

272,  278,  309,  313 

Martin  da  Colurnio  285 

Martin  of  Fano 47 

Martin  of  Spain 82 

Martinello  ...  209,  228,  233 

Martyrdom  174,  191 

Mass  Ceremonies  70 ;  not  understood 

300 
Matilda  (Countess)  17,  114,  188,  206, 

228 

Matteo(Bro.)        231 

Matteo  Correggio  ..  ...  210 

Matteo  Fogliani 196 

Matteo  Rossi         279 

Matthew  of  Cremona     ..  ...  173 

Matthew  of  Modena       322 

Matthew  Paris,  26,  40,  55,  187,  279, 

282 

Matulino 341,  342 

Maundeville  (Sir  John)  ...      172,313 

Maurice  (Bro.)      154 

Maurienne  ...         177 


Maximin  (St.)      167 

McCabe      i  \ -:  65,  343,  345 

Meloria  (Battle  of)  79 

Mercury  (St.)        206 

Merlin  157,  213,  214,  240,  245 

Messina      202,  243 

Methodius  213 

Michael  (Marquis)  342 

Michael  (Prof.)  5,  10,  30,  38,  158,  184, 

186,  275,  295 
Michael  Scot  213,  214,  243,  244 

Middle  Ages  and  freedom  of  speech  5, 
38,  sadness  of  5.  55,  349,  352  ; 
careless  of  objective  truth  5 ; 
compared  with  modern  times  58  ; 
chaps,  i  and  xxvii  passim  ;  bar- 
barous 18 ;  ideas  of  cleanliness 
69,  70  ;  art  of  361 
Milan  23,  24,  42,  100,  104,  190,  218, 

286,  308,  309,  332,  336 
Millemosche  (Paolo)        ...  28 

Miracles  101,  102,  110,  148,  153,  173, 
183,  193,  216,  222,  228,  273  ;  dis- 
couraged 102  ;  false  25,   30,  32, 
37,  223,  307,  310,  317;  ridiculed 
26  ;  decrease  of  111;  no  proof  of 
sanctity  309 
Modena  39,  42,  59,  HI,  118,  120,  124 
125,  132,  137,  159,  186,  191,  201, 
204,  205,  207,  210,  212,  214,  217, 
238,  286,  322,  329 
Money,  power  of  2,  114,  231,  281,  340 
Monks,  their  ideals  3,  68  ;  morality 
72;  discipline  91,  92,  137,  156; 
and  money   95;  commerce    199; 
murdered    47,    211;    food    210; 
proprietary  336  ;  and  art  351 
Montefalcone  101,  200,  221,  228,  230, 
231 

Montereggio  186 

Morals,  Medieval  39,  251,  253,  296, 
301,  325,  331 

Morando  (Master)  138 

Munio  (O.P.)         162 

Murders  47,  203,  205,  210,  227,   228, 

229,  232,  233,  251,  253,  315 
Music  99,  105,   112,  173;  its  dangers 

100 
Mysticism  and  Rationalism       ...  164 

NANTELMO       173,  176 

Naples  106,  155,  173,  237,  275,  284, 

318 

Nazzaro  Gherardini         77 

Nero  da  Leccaterra         206 

Newman  (Card.)  7,  58,  62,  105,  149, 

164 
Niccolo  de' Bazeleri        ...  236 


Index. 


443 


Nice  172,  173,  174 

Nicholas  (St.)        96 

Nicholas  III    109,  202,  214,  235,  251, 

278 
Nicholas  IV  110,  235,  272,  332 

Nicholas  (Bp.  of  Reggio)        285,  335 
Nicholas  of  Clair vaux     ...         ...     67 

Nicholas  the  Englishman  ...  189 

Nicholas  the  Fish  242 

Nicholas  of  Montefeltro  ...   101 

Nobility,  decay  of  ...        19,195 

Nouantola  235 

Norwich     292,  337 

Novellino ...  195 

Novelty,  love  of 328 

Nuns  oppressed  77  ;  their  morals  78, 

293 

OBIZZO  DA  ESTE  41,  200,  212,  222. 

251   256 
Obizzo  (Bp.  of  Parma)  214,  215,  236, 

285,  286,  328,  331 

Oddo  (Cardinal)     141 

Odo  Rigaldi  (see  Eudes) 

Odour  of  sanctity  304 

Ognibeue 18,49,343 

Oliphaut 10 

Or  San  Michele      310 

Origen        97,  306 

Osmund  (St.)         298 

Ofctaviano  (Card.)  134,  250,  258,  269, 

260,  276 

Otto  IV. 273 

Ottobono  (Card. ,  later  Adrian  V.)  109, 

251 

Ovid  224 

Oxford       57,  315 

PADUA  23,  84,  118,  138,  262,  263, 
264,  266,  338 

Pagani        19 

Paganino 173 

PaBavicino   127,  128,  131,  191,   192, 

255,  271 

Paolo  Traversario  ...      195,  196 

Paris  57.  106,  136,  137,  140,  141,  152, 

154,  155,  158,  161,  171,  179,  219, 

241,  262,  284.  300,  316 

Parishes,  size  of   ...         ...         ...  292 

Parma  12,  13.  17,  19,  22,  26,  39,  42, 
43,  44,  46,  47,  60,  51,  54,  60,  03, 
104.  105,  112,  114,  115,  116,  117, 
118,  119,  120,  121,  122,  123,  124, 
126,  127,  128,  129,  130,  131,  132, 
1.34,  1.36,  1.37,  153,  159,  160,  183, 
186,  190,  191,  192.  200,  201,  202, 
203,  204,  205,  212,  214,  215,  216, 


Parma — continued. 

217,  219,  223,  228,  229,  233,  235, 
236,  ^,  244,  254,  267,  286,  307, 
308.  .321,  323,  329,  .331,  332,  338  ; 
baptistery  of  12,  13,  16,  119,  203, 
311 ;  bishop  of  285 ;  Bishop's 
palace  17,  22,  119;  convent  of 
St.  Clare  19;  Cathedral  of  16, 
123,  203  ;  Piazza  Communale  25  ; 
rebellion  of  116;  silver  model  of 
119 

Paschetta 196 

Pastoureanx  187 

Patecchio  19,  186,  236,  258,  272 

Pavia  118,  127 

Peckham  (Abp.) 301,  315 

Pentecost  (Bro.) 124,  173 

Peregrino  di  Polesino      ...         ...  194 

Perugia       ...  100,  181,  190,  203 

Perugino 361 

Peter  (St.)  203 

Peter  of  Apulia 165ff 

Peter  of  Aragon      202,  227,  237,  246 

Peter  Lombard     151,  155 

Peter  the  Spaniard  .  ...  168 

Petrarch  282,  .302 

PhiUp  (Bro.)         251 

Philip  the  Bold 227 

Philip   of  Ravenna  (Abp.)  100,  169, 

197,  261,  262.  266,  269. 
Physician  salaried  by  city         ...  234 

Pia  de' Tolomei 228 

Piacenza  39,  116,  177,  233,  287 

Piero  dellfi  Vigne  ...        26,121 

Piers  Plowman  71,  313,  360,  353 

Pietro  Ispano  (John  XXI)         ...   109 
Pietro  Mangiadore  ...  52,  56 

Pietro  Pagani ...  251 

Pietro  Peccatore    ..         ..  ...     93 

Pilgrimage  and  comforts  ...  311 

Pinamonte  251,  272 

Pino  da  Gente  228,  229,  232 

Pious  fraud  25, 199  ;  thefts  30  ;  ruffian 
206 

Pipinus       192,  241 

Pisa  22,  50,  79,  80,  81,  83,  98,  140, 
153,  169,  216,  216,  217,  223,  336, 
339 
Pistoia  82,  146,  201,  269 

Pius  VI      Ill 

Plague        ...    190,  192,  203,  217,  233 

Pocapaglia  89 

Politics,  dangers  of         ...      204,230 
Poltrenerio  de'  Ricicoldi  130,  205 

Ponce  (Bro.)  172 

Popes  273  ;  looked  upon  as  Antichrist 
161,  165;  bribed  279;  burnt  in 
effigy  203  ;  canonized  306 ;  court 


444 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Popes — continued. 

corrupt  109,  112,  146,  278.  2«2  ; 
criticized  67,  145,  202,  245,  27;^, 
275,  278  ;  damned  276  ;  discipline 
310,  330  ;  elected  by  force  202  ; 
embezzle  86,  198,  278  ;  and  em- 
peror 1 14,  273  ;  evil  predicted  162  ; 
good  expected  58,  333 ;  heretical 
275,  316  ;  immoral  276,  278  ;  lux- 
ury 187  ;  magic  274  ;  nepotism 
277,  278,  280  ;  power  in  the  13th 
Century  275 ;  prayed  to  death 
234  ;  temporal  power  273 

Prato  217 

Preaching  23,  33,  80 ;  lay  40  ;  un- 
licensed 326 

Predestination      232,  317 

Pretenders  195 

Primas  38,  39,  227,  270 

Prison,  cruelty  of  124,126,127,207,216 
Private  judgment  ...      150,  164 

Prophecy    ...  153,  159,  162,  214 

Proverbs  41,  44,  83,  93,  95,  104,  163, 
164,  169,  233,  301 

Provins       135,  139,  153 

Punishment  Corporal     ...        14,181 
Puritanism         62,  100,  317,  334,  343 

RAIMONDELLO  209 

Eaimondo  da  Vigna         ...         ...     56 

Rashdall  (Dr.)      8 

Raven        260 

Ravenna  91,  177,  185,  192,  193,  195, 
196,  197,  200,  215,  235,  252,  265, 
266,  267,  268,  270,  286,  311,  327, 
342  :  council  of  269,  294  (See  also 
Philip) 

Raviuoli 224 

Rawnsley,  Canon  337 

Raymond  (Bro.) 167 

Raymond  Berenger         147 

Raymond  Gaufridi  315 

Raymond  (O.  P.)  162 

Raymond  of  Toulouse 340 

Recanati  (Bp.  of)  112 

Reformation  2,  301  ;  need  of  in  13th 
Century  58 ;  laity  assists  59 ; 
justified  72,  109,  164,  293,  294, 
347  ;  its  influence  on  Romanism 
275. 
Reggio  16,  23,  59,  77.  78,  101,  118, 
120,  124,  125,  131,  132,  137,  163, 
190,  191,  197,  200,  201,  202,  203, 
204,  205,  206,  207,  208,  210,  211, 
212,  214,  217,  218,  219,  220,  221, 
223,  224,  226,  226,  227,  229,  230, 
231,  232,  233,  238,  243,  251,  266, 
28G,  287,  307,  329,  335,  336. 


Re  Giovane  92 

Relics  183,  267,  273;  false  307; 
duplicate  291, 311,  313 ;  profitable 
308,  311  '3^1Wj2.%0 
Religion  (See  also  Faith,  Infidel,  In- 
tolerance, Irrtverence,  Revival, 
Tolerance)  21,  165,  187,  188,  191, 
192,  197,  221,  321 ;  freedom  of  in 
13th  Century  22,  305  ;  hysterical 
317;  modern  315;  a  popular 
growth  40,  305,  323;  sensual 
317. 
Religious  education  (or  want  of)  18, 
43,  156,  163,  299,  302. 

Renan        151,313 

Revivals     21ff,  187,  191 

Rich  and  poor      208.  252 

Richard  de  Bury  ...  ...     43 

Richard  of  Chichester  (St.)       ...  315 
Richard  of  England  (Bro.)         ...318 

Ricobaldo  197,201 

Rienzi        ..   164 

Rieti  178,  181 

Rikeldina  da  Enzola       17 

Rimini       112 

Rinaldo  of  Arezzo  (Bp.)  178  fT,  284,  291 


Rinaldo  di  Tocca 

Riniero 

Ritual,  varieties  of 

Rizola  da  Polenta 

Robert  (the  Apostle) 

Robert  of  Artois  ... 

Roberti      

Roger  Bacon  223,  239,  298,  299,  315, 

333  ;  his  despair  56 
Roger  of  Bagnacavallo  ... 

Roglerio     

Roland  (Abbot  of  Canossa) 

Roland  of  Padua 

Roland  of  Parma 

Roland  of  Pavia 

Rolandino  of  Canossa 

Rolando  di  Guido  Bovi 

Rolando  Rossi 

RoUe  of  Hampole 

Romagna 

Romanism  and  Tolerance         34,  350 

Rome  40,  57,  58,  79,  103,  109,  112, 

160,  160,  164,  173,  220,  223,  274, 

280,  283,  313 
Rome,  sanctuaries  of 
Rose  of  Viterbo  (St.)      . 
Rouen 
Rubino 

Rudolf  (Emperor) 
Rudolf  of  Saxony  (Bro.) 
Ruffino(Bro.)           177,289,317 
Ruffino  of  Bologna  


277 

147 

106 

327 

324,  330,  331 

140 

287 


,  262 
.  80 
,  231 
.  339 

219 

101 

207,  230,  231 
...  129 

121 

40 

218,  272,  278 


...  173 
...  31 
291,296 
...  114 
278,  335 
...  79 
332 
184 


Index. 


445 


Ruffo  Gurgone 
Ruskin 
Ryder,  (Fr.) 


254 
40 

28 


SABATIER  ...  3,  31,  64,  337 
Sacchetti  71,  204,  253,  298,  301,  309, 

310,  313 
Sacraments  ineffectual  293  ;  neglected 

301 ;  transitory  152 
Saints  false  308,  309  ;  misunderstood 
314 ;  new-fangled  310  ;  work 
their  own  salvation  314 ;  worship- 
ped before  God  309 ;  their  in- 
ward struggles  317 

Saint-Gilles  171,  312 

Saint- Victor  117 

Salimbene,  his  accuracy  and  love  of 
detail  4,  6,  112,  193,  215,  216, 
222,  223 ;  admires  beauty  78, 
126,  256 ;  an  average  friar  334, 
347;  aristocratic  views  80,  113, 
114,  224,  235,330, 355  ;  conversion 
42;  curiosity  196;  deacon  81; 
death  238  ;  dream  47 ;  education 
18,  48, 173,  326  ;  epicureanism  44, 
166.  176,  179,  193,  207;  his 
father  12,  44ff,  54,  276  ;  fears 
death  171  ;  frankness  4  ;  and  the 
French  237  ;  friends  77,  79,  chap, 
ix.  passim,  152,  173,  174,  183, 
189,  193,  196,  227,  235,  277  ;  as 
historian  9,  10,  239 ;  genealogy 
19  ;  importance  190  ;  intolerance 
161, 165  ;  Joacbi8m245;  literary 
friends  154  ;  mother  53  ;  musical 
18;  name  49;  namesakes  101, 
176  ;  niece  4  ;  peacemaker  217  ; 
politics  79,  195,  236  ;  popularity 
191  ;  preacher  169  ;  priest  174  ; 
and  relics  267  ;  self-confidence 
135,  180,  189,  203,  278  ;  self- 
sacrifice  54;  scepticism  183,311  ; 
and  Spirituals  174 ;  spiritual 
daughters  41,  78,  97.  258  ;  spirit- 
ual development  149 ;  subdeacon 
81  ;  temptations  51  ;  vagabond 
tastes  184,  185 ;  visions  46,  50, 
51  ;  wanderings  134ff,  186  ;  and 
women  76,  78, 236,  258  ;  writings 
6,  186 
Salinguerra  ...         ...         ...  251 

Salvation  Army 338 

San  Benedetto  di  Polirone  ...  188 
San  Bonifazio  (Count  Lodovico  di)  256 
San  Procolo  (battle  of)  ..    193 

Sanctity,  odour  of  304 

Santa  Croce  351 

SarUo  Volto  310 


Savonarola  ...         133 

Scarabello  da  Canossa     ...         ...  229 

Scatuzio     274 

Schoolmen...         283 

Schulz  (Alwin)      14 

Sectaries  patronized   188,    309,    328, 

popular  331,  332 

Sects  322,  323 

Secundus   ...         ...         ...         ..      28 

Sedulius     31 

Segarello,  Gerardino        ...  323ff-3^X 

Segnorelli 196 

Semiramis ..     77 

Seneca    68,  91,  342 

Sens     82,  136.  139,  154,  290,  313 

Serpent  (fable  of) 217 

Servants  (treatment  of)  13,  266 

Sibyl  157,214,245 

Sicilian  vespers  202 

Siena  45,  49,  79,  81,  82,  85,  87,  98, 

146,  153,  179,  182,  304 

Silvester  (St.)         96 

Simon  of  Colazzone  ..         ...  174 

Simon  de  Manfredi  113 

Simon  of  Montesarchio  ...      173,  174 
Simon  de  Montfort         ...      146,309 

Sinibdldo  Lupicini  211 

Sinigaglia  ...  198,  311,  313 

Slaves,  oriental     ...         ...         ...       2 

Sordello  133 

Spirituals  70,  106,  152,  161,  165,  174, 
5V0,253,  264  ;  persecuted  73, 315, 345, 

'346.;4ll 
Stephen  the  Englishman  72,  137,  168, 

171,  174,  179 


Stigmata  of  St.  Francis 

118,  315 

Strasburg  

...  173 

Suicide,  monastic 

...  318 

Susa            

...  178 

Symonds,  J.  A 

21,26 

TADDEO  (Bro.) 

...  173 

Taddeo  Buonconte 

47.  227 

Taddeo  da  Suessa 

...  121 

Tarascon 

147,  167 

Tartars       

135,  223 

Taunton  (Fr.)       

...     70 

Tsars  in  prayer     

...  317 

Tebaldello             

197,  199 

Tebaldo  Francesco 

...  116 

Theodoric              

..  193 

Thomas  Aquinas   (St.)  63, 

160,  246, 

284,  298,  314  ;  his  doctrines  con- 

demned 315 

Thomas  degli  Armari 

...     47 

Thomas  k  Becket 

41,  88,  96 

Thomas  Cantilupe  (8t. )  ... 

...  316 

Thomas  of  Capua 

...    99 

446 


From  St.  Francis  to  Dante. 


Thomaoof  Celano       vi"    11,  18,  340 
Thomas  of  Chantimprf  9,  30,  56,  239 

276,  295 
Thomas  of  Ecoleston  73,  151,  168,276, 

292,  334.  342,  343 
Thomas  the  Irishman  (Bro.)      ...  332 
Thomas  of  Lancaster  ...  309 

Thomas  of  Pavia  72,  103,  269 

Tithe  quarrels      225,302 

Tocco  151 

Todi  338 

Toledo       261,  268,  274 

Tolerance,  modern  314 

Torquemada  (Card.  Juan)  ...  336 

Tortona     ..  178 

Torture    112,  120,  207,  209,  210,  218, 

230,  266 

Toulouse  170 

Tournaments  and  vendettas      ...  246 

Trade  unions        224 

Traversara  (Casa)  195 

Treachery         1 99,  209,  2 11 ,  2 1 7,  246 

Tripia         325 

Troyes        135 

Trutannus 237 

Turin 76,  117 

Tuscany  41,  49,  50,  72,  76,  81,  82,  103, 

118,  133,  169,  181,  183,  200,  237, 

261. 

UBALDINO  (Bro.)        196 

Ubaldino  da  Mugello      258 

Uberti        131,205 

Ubertino  da  Casale  56,  63,  65.    110, 

253,  336,  339,  340,  343,  346. 
Uberto  Pallavicino  127,  191,  255.  256 


Ugo  Amerigi 
Ugo  de'Barci 
Ugo  Boterio 
Ugo  di  Caasio 
Ugo  of  Reggio 
Ugolino  (Card. 

258,  276 
Ugolino  da  Cavazza 
Umile  of  Milan    ... 
Umiliana  (St.) 
Unicorn 
Universities,  corrupt 


13 
196 
118 

17 

89 
(See  also  Gregory  IX.) 


Urban  IV  . 
Urban  V 
Urgeliac 
Usury 


..  125 

48,  294 

..  317 

...  172 

...    57 


268,  277,  278,  287 

...  309 

...  143 

104,253 


VALLOMBROSA  (Order  of)     ...183 
Vandalism       16,  69,   111,    160,    161, 

193,  198,  202,  205,  207.  212,  219, 

229,  ,S01 
Varagine,  .Jacopo  da         ..        39,  167 

Vatatzes     108,  176 

Vendettas   197,   203,   204,   205,  210, 

211,  215,  229,  233,  246,  312 
Venice        ...  188,  194,  195,  234.  249tr 

Vermin       67,  71,  194,  325 

Vernaccia  ...         ...         ...         ...  207 

Verona       ...  118,  169,  160,  201 

V^zelay       311,  313 

Vicenza       26,  159 

Victoria  117,  118,    122,  123,  124,  126, 

131,  136,  244 
Vienne  176,  177  ;  Council  of  301 

Vilana  de' Stefani  ...         ...     19 

Villani        6,  202,  240 

Villano  da  Ferro  ...         ...         ...  244 

Vincent  of  Beauvais         56,  119,  313 

Viridiana  (St.)      31 

Visions,  false        32.  317 

Vita  (Brother)      99,  100 

WADDING  6,  31,  37,  63,  72,  )6,  101, 
108,  185,  276,  277,301/i-" 

Walter  (Bro.)        ...  Ill 

Walter  Map  38 

Ward  (Wilfrid) 275 

Wars  39,  42,  59,  112,  152,  194,  200, 
201,  204  ;  desolation  of  60,  208, 
301  ;  cruelty  of  118,  120,  218,  238 

Wesleyans  41,90,346 

Wiclif         350 

William  of  Auxerre        ..        103,  137 

William  Britto      104 

William  da  Fieschi         189 

William  of  Piedmont      173 

William  of  Sicily  240 

Wine  ...     92,  107,  207,  258,  270 

Wolves       39,  171 

Women,  status  and  treatment  of  13, 
96,  115,  126.  196,  201,  202,  209, 
228,  229,  237,  251,  253,  255  ;  not 
to  speak  in  Church  28  ;  unfit  for 
power  76,  77 
Writing  98,  105,  108,  111,  112,  113, 
153,  160,  174,  235.-  ;i 

ZAMBRASINO  D£'  ZAMBRASI  199 


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